A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK 
STAR  LINE 


THE  SCRIBNER  SERIES 
FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE 

EACH  WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  COLOR 
BOOKS  FOR  BOYS 

THE  MODERN  WK3BG6  By  H.  H.  Bojwsen 

WILL  SHAKHSPEAHK-S  imXE  LAD         By  Imogen  Clark 
THE  BOY  SCOUT  and  Other  Stories  (or  Boys 
STORIES  FOR  BOYS  By  Richard  Fiarding  Davis 

BANS  BRINKER.  or  The  SUver  Skates 

By  Mary  Mspcs  Dodge 

THE  HOOSIBR  SCHOOL-BOY  By  Edward  Eggleston 

THE  COURT  OF  KING  ARTHUR    By  William  Henry  Frost 
WITH  LEE  IN  VIRGINIA 
WITH  WOLFE  IN  CANADA 
REDSKIN  AND  COWBOY 
UNDER  DRAKE'S  FLAG,  a  Tale  of  the  Spanish  Main 

By  G.  A.  Henty 

AT  WAR  WITH  PONTIAC  By  Kirk  Munroe 

TOMMY  TROT'S  VISIT  TO  SANTA  CLAUS  aad 
A  CAPTURED  SANTA  CLAUS  By  Thomas  Nelson  Page 

THE  FULLBACK  By  Lawrence  Perry 

BOYS  OF  ST.  TIMOTUY'S  By  Arthur  Staawood  Piej  „ 

KIDNAPPED 
TREASURE  ISLAND 

BLACK  ABROW  By'  Robert  Loan  Steveoaon  ' 

AROUND  THE  WORLD  tR  EIGHTY  DAYS 
'A  JOURNEY  TO  THE  CENTRE  OF  THE  EARTH 
SKOM  THE  EARTH  TO  THB  MOON 
TWENTY  THOUSAND  LEAGUES  UNDER  THE  SEA 


OR  THE  OLD  KBARSA&GB 

IN  THE  WASP'S  HBST  By  Cyrun  Townsead  Brady 

THE  BOY  SBTTLBRS  J' 

THB  BOYS  OV  SAIRPORT  By  Nona  Brook* 

THB  CONSCRIPT  OF  ISIS  By  Erdcmann-Chatrioa  ' 

A  CADR-T  OF  THB  BLACK  STAR  LINK 
THE  STEAM-SHOVEL  MAN  By  Ralph  D.  Pafn» 

THB  MOUNTAIN  DIVIDE  By  Prank  H.  Spearman 

THB  STRANGE  GRAY  CANOE  By  Paul  G.  Tomlioson  ' 

THS  ADVENTURES  OF  A  FRESHMAN    By  J.  L.  Williams^ 
JACK  HAT.T»  or.  The  School  Days  of  an  American  Boy 

By  Robert  Gtaat. 

BOOKS  FOR  GIRLS 

THE  BAIN-COAT  GIRL  By  Jennette  Lee 

SMITH  COLLEGE  STORIES  By  Josephine  Daskam 

ROSEMARY  GRBBNAWAY 

ELSIE  MARLEY  By  Joalyn  Gray 

THE  HALLOWBU.  PARTNERSHIP 

By  Katharine  Holland  Brcrwn 

MY  WONDERFUL  VISIT  By  Elizabeth  Hill 

SARA  CREWE.  or.  What  Happened  at  Miss  Minchin's 
A  FAIR  BARBARIAN  By  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett 

NEXT-BBBTBRS  By  Lulah  Ragsdale 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 


"She  can't  last  much  longer.     Lay  into  it,  my  buckos ! " 

[Page  22] 


By 

RALPH  D.  PAINE 

Author  of  "  College  Years,"  "The  Head  Coach," 
"The  Fugitive  Freshman,"  etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

GEORGE  VARIAN 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1922 


COPYKIGHT,    1910,   BY 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I.  Oil  Upon  the  Waters 3 

II.  The  Sea  Waifs 23 

III.  The  Fire-Room  Gang 43 

IV.  Mr.  Cochran's  Temper 63 

V.  Mid  Fog  and  Ice 83 

VI.  The  Missing  Boat 102 

VII.  The  Bonds  of  Sympathy 121 

VIII.  Yankee  Topsails 140 

IX.  Captain  Bracewell's  Ship  ......  161 

X.  The  Call  of  Duty 179 


2137644 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  She  can't  last  much  longer.    Lay  into  it,  my  buckosl " 

Frontispiece 

Facing 
page 

Some  one  was  kneeling  on  his  chest,  with  a  choking  grip  on 
his  neck 50 


It  was  easy  work  to  get  alongside  and  pass  them  a  line  .    .no 
David  gazed  down  at  the  white  deck  of  the  Sea  Witch    .    .  194 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK 
STAR  LINE 


A    CADET    OF    THE    BLACK 
STAR  LINE 

CHAPTER  I 

OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

THE  strength  of  fifteen  thousand  horses  was 
driving  the  great  Black  Star  liner  Roanoke  across 
the  Atlantic  toward  New  York.  Her  prom 
enade  decks,  as  long  as  a  city  block,  swarmed 
with  cabin  passengers,  while  below  them  a 
thousand  immigrants  enjoyed  the  salty  wind 
that  swept  around  the  bow.  Far  above  these 
noisy  throngs  towered  the  liner's  bridge  as  a 
little  world  set  apart  by  itself.  Full  seventy 
feet  from  the  sea  this  airy  platform  spanned  the 
ship,  so  remote  that  the  talk  and  laughter  of 
the  decks  came  to  it  only  as  a  low  murmur. 
The  passengers  were  forbidden  to  climb  to  the 
bridge,  and  they  seldom  thought  of  the  quiet 

3 


A  CADET   OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

men  in  blue  who,  two  at  a  time,  were  always 
pacing  that  canvas-screened  pathway  to  guide 
the  Roanoke  to  port. 

Midway  of  the  bridge  was  the  wheel-house,  in 
which  a  rugged  quartermaster  seemed  to  be 
playing  with  the  spokes  set  round  a  small  brass 
rim  while  he  kept  his  eyes  on  the  swaying 
compass  card  before  him.  The  huge  liner 
responded  like  a  well-bitted  horse  to  the  touch 
of  the  bridle  rein,  for  the  power  of  steam  had 
been  set  at  work  to  move  the  ponderous  rud 
der,  an  eighth  of  a  mile  away. 

A  lad  of  seventeen  years  was  cleaning  the 
brasswork  in  the  wheel-house.  Trimly  clad 
in  blue,  his  taut  jersey  was  lettered  across  the 
chest  with  the  word  CADET.  When  in  a 
cheerful  mood  he  was  as  wholesome  and  sailorly 
a  youngster  to  look  at  as  you  could  have  found 
afloat,  but  now  he  was  plainly  discontented 
with  his  task  as  with  sullen  frown  and  peevish 
haste  he  finished  rubbing  the  speaking-tubes 
with  cotton  waste.  Then  as  he  caught  up  his 
kit  he  burst  out: 

"If  my  seafaring  father  could  have  lived  to 
watch  me  at  this  fool  kind  of  work,  he'd  have 

4 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

been  disgusted.  I  might  better  be  a  bell-boy 
in  a  hotel  ashore  at  double  the  wages." 

The  quartermaster  uneasily  shifted  his  grip 
on  the  wheel  and  growled : 

"The  old  man's  on  the  bridge.  No  talkin' 
in  here.  Go  below  and  tell  your  troubles  to 
your  little  playmates,  sonny." 

Young  David  Downes  went  slowly  down  the 
stairway  that  led  to  the  boat  deck,  but  his 
loafing  gait  was  quickened  by  a  strong  voice  in 
his  ear: 

' '  Step  lively,  there.  Another  soft-baked  lands 
man  that  has  made  up  his  mind  to  quit  us,  eh?" 

The  youth  flushed  as  he  flattened  himself 
against  the  deck  house  to  make  room  for  the 
captain  of  the  liner  who  had  shrewdly  read  the 
cadet's  thoughts.  As  he  swung  into  the  door 
way  of  his  room  the  brown  and  bearded  com 
mander  flung  back  with  a  contemptuous  snort: 
"Like  all  the  rest  of  them — no  good!  " 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Captain  Thrasher 
had  thought  it  worth  while  to  speak  to  the 
humble  cadet  who  was  beneath  notice  among 
the  four  hundred  men  that  made  up  the  crew 
of  the  Roanoke.  From  afar,  David  had  viewed 

5 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

this  deep-water  despot  with  awe  and  dislike, 
thinking  him  as  brutal  as  he  was  overbearing. 
Even  now,  as  he  scurried  past  the  captain's 
room,  he  heard  him  say  to  one  of  the  officers : 

"Take  the  irons  off  the  worthless  hounds, 
and  if  they  refuse  duty  again  I  will  come  down 
to  the  fire  room  and  make  them  fit  for  the 
hospital." 

The  cadet  shook  his  fist  at  the  captain's 
door  and  moved  on  to  join  his  companions  in 
the  fore  part  of  the  ship.  He  was  in  open 
rebellion  against  the  life  he  had  chosen  only  a 
month  before.  Bereft  of  his  parents,  he  had 
lived  with  an  uncle  in  New  York  while  he 
plodded  through  his  grammar-school  years, 
after  which  he  was  turned  out  to  shift  for 
himself.  He  had  found  a  place  as  a  "  strong 
and  willing  boy"  in  a  wholesale  dry-goods 
store,  but  his  early  boyhood  memories  recalled 
a  father  at  sea  in  command  of  a  stately  square- 
rigger,  and  the  love  of  the  calling  was  in  his 
blood.  There  were  almost  no  more  blue-water 
Yankee  sailing  ships  and  sailors,  however,  and 
small  chance  for  an  ambitious  American  boy 

afloat. 

6 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

Restlessly  haunting  the  wharves  in  his  leisure 
hours,  David  had  happened  to  discover  that  the 
famous  Black  Star  Line  steamers  were  com 
pelled  by  act  of  Congress  to  carry  a  certain 
number  of  apprentices  or  "cadets,"  to  be 
trained  until  they  were  fit  for  berths  as  junior 
officers.  The  news  had  fired  him  with  eager 
ness  for  one  of  these  appointments.  But  for 
weeks  he  faced  the  cruel  placard  on  the  door 
of  the  marine  superintendent's  office: 

NO  CADETS  WANTED  TO-DAY 

At  last,  and  he  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes, 
when  he  hurried  down  from  the  Broadway 
store  during  the  noon  hour,  the  sign  had  been 
changed  to  read: 

TWO  CADETS  WANTED 

Partly  because  he  was  the  son  of  a  ship 
master  and  partly  because  of  his  frank  and 
manly  bearing,  David  Downes  was  asked  for 
his  references,  and  a  few  days  later  he  received 
orders  to  join  the  Roanoke  over  the  heads  of 
thirty-odd  applicants.  Now  he  was  completing 
his  first  round  voyage  and,  alas!  he  had  almost 

7 


A  CADET  OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

decided  to  forsake  the  sea.  He  was  ready  to 
talk  about  his  grievances  with  the  four  other 
cadets  of  his  watch  whom  he  found  in  their 
tiny  mess  room  up  under  the  bow. 

"I  just  heard  the  old  man  threaten  to  half 
kill  a  couple  of  firemen,"  angrily  cried  David. 
"He  is  a  great  big  bully.  Why,  my  father 
commanded  a  vessel  for  thirty  years  without 
ever  striking  a  seaman.  Mighty  little  I'll  ever 
learn  about  real  seafaring  aboard  this  marine 
hotel.  All  you  have  to  do  is  head  her  for  her 
port  and  the  engines  do  the  rest.  Yet  the 
captain  thinks  he's  a  little  tin  god  in  brass 
buttons  and  gold  braid." 

An  older  cadet,  who  was  in  his  second  year 
aboard  the  liner,  eyed  the  heated  youngster 
with  a  grim  smile,  but  only  observed : 

"You  must  stay  in  steam  if  you  want  to 
make  a  living  at  sea,  Davy.  And  as  for  Cap 
tain  Stephen  Thrasher — well,  you'll  know  more 
after  a  few  voyages." 

A  chubby,  rosy  lad  dangled  his  short  legs 
from  a  bunk  and  grinned  approval  of  David's 
mutiny  as  he  broke  in: 

"There  won't  be  any  more  voyages  for  this 
8 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

bold  sailor  boy.  Acting  as  chambermaid  for 
paint  and  brasswork  doesn't  fill  me  with  any 
wild  love  for  the  romance  of  the  sea.  We  were 
led  aboard  under  false  pretences,  hey,  David?" 

"Me,  too,"  put  in  another  cadet.  "I'm 
going  to  make  three  hops  down  the  gangway 
as  soon  as  we  tie  up  in  New  York." 

"So  I  am  the  only  cadet  in  this  watch  with 
sand  enough  to  stick  it  out,"  said  their  elder. 
"You  are  a  mushy  lot,  you  are.  I'm  going  on 
deck  to  find  a  man  to  talk  to." 

As  the  door  slammed  behind  him,  David 
Downes  moodily  observed: 

"He  has  no  ambition,  that's  what's  the 
matter  with  him"  But  after  a  while  David 
grew  tired  of  the  chatter  and  horse-play  of  the 
mess  room  and  went  on  deck  to  think  over 
the  problem  he  must  work  out  for  himself. 
Was  it  lack  of  "sand"  that  made  him  ready 
to  quit  the  calling  he  had  longed  for  all  his  life  ? 
Would  he  not  regret  the  chance  after  he  had 
thrown  it  away?  But  the  life  around  him 
was  nothing  at  all  like  the  pictures  of  his 
dreams,  and  he  was  too  much  of  a  boy  to  look 
beyond  the  present.  His  ideas  of  the  sea  were 

9 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

colored  through  and  through  by  the  memories 
of  his  father's  career.  He  had  come  to  hate 
this  ugly  steel  monster  crammed  with  coal  and 
engines,  which  ate  up  her  three  thousand  miles 
like  an  express  train. 

As  he  leaned  against  the  rail,  staring  sadly 
out  to  sea,  the  sunlight  flashed  into  snowy 
whiteness  the  distant  royals  and  top-gallant 
sails  of  a  square-rigger  beating  to  the  west 
ward  under  a  foreign  flag.  The  boy's  eyes 
filled  with  tears  of  genuine  homesickness. 
Yonder  was  a  ship  worthy  of  the  name,  such 
as  he  longed  to  be  in,  but  there  was  no  place 
in  her  kind  for  him  or  his  countrymen.  A 
brown  paw  smote  David's  shoulder,  and  lie 
turned  to  see  the  German  bos'n.  The  cadet 
brushed  a  hand  across  his  eyes,  ashamed  of 
his  emotion,  but  the  kind-hearted  old  seaman 
chuckled: 

"Vat  is  it,  Mister  Downes?  You  vas  sore 
on  the  skipper  and  the  ship,  so  ?" 

David  answered  with  a  little  break  in  his 
voice: 

"It  is  all  so  different  from  what  I  expected, 
Peter." 

IO 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

"You  stay  mit  us  maybe  a  dozen  or  six 
voyages,"  returned  the  other,  "and  you  guess 
again,  boy.  I  did  not  t'ink  you  vas  a  quitter." 

"But  this  isn't  like  going  to  sea  at  all,"  pro 
tested  David. 

"You  mean  it  ist  not  a  big  man's  work?" 
shouted  the  bos'n.  "Mem  Gott,  boy,  it  vas 
full  up  mit  splendid  kinds  of  seamanship,  what 
that  old  bundle  of  sticks  and  canvas  out  yonder 
never  heard  about.  I  know.  I  vas  in  sailin' 
vessels  twenty  years." 

The  bos'n  waved  a  scornful  hand  at  the 
passing  ship.  But  David  could  not  be  con 
vinced  by  empty  words,  and  long  after  the 
bos'n  had  left  him,  he  wistfully  watched  the 
square-rigger  slide  under  the  horizon,  like  a 
speck  of  drifting  cloud. 

There  had  been  bright  skies  and  smooth 
seas  during  the  outward  passage  to  Dover  and 
Antwerp,  and  although  the  season  was  early 
spring  the  Roanoke  had  reached  mid-ocean  on 
her  return  voyage  before  the  smiling  weather 
shifted.  When  David  was  roused  out  to  stand 
his  four-hour  watch  at  midnight,  the  liner  was 

plunging  into  head  seas  which  broke  over  the 

ii 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

forward  deck  and  were  swept  aft  by  a  gale 
that  hurled  the  spray  against  her  bridge  like 
rain.  The  cadet  had  to  fight  his  way  to  the 
boat  deck  to  report  to  the  chief  officer.  Climb 
ing  to  the  bridge  he  found  Captain  Thrasher 
clinging  to  the  railing,  a  huge  and  uncouth  figure 
in  dripping  oil-skins.  It  was  impossible  to  see 
overside  in  the  inky  darkness,  while  the  clamor 
of  wind  and  sea  and  the  pelting  fury  of  spray 
made  speech  impossible. 

The  cadet  crouched  in  the  lee  of  the  wheel- 
house  while  the  night  dragged  on,  now  and 
then  scrambling  below  on  errands  of  duty  until 
four  o'clock  sounded  on  the  ship's  bell.  Then 
he  went  below,  drenched  and  shivering,  to  lie 
awake  for  some  time  and  feel  the  great  ship 
rear  and  tremble  to  the  shock  of  the  charging 
seas. 

When  he  went  on  deck  in  daylight,  he  was 
amazed  to  find  the  Roanoke  making  no  more 
than  half  speed  against  the  storm.  The  white- 
crested  combers  were  towering  higher  than  her 
sides,  and  as  he  started  to  cross  the  well  deck 
a  wall  of  green  water  crashed  over  the  bow, 
picked  him  up,  and  tossed  him  against  a  hatch, 

12 


where  he  clung  bruised  and  strangling  until 
the  torrent  passed.  It  was  the  sturdy  bos'n 
who  crawled  forward  and  fetched  the  boy 
away  from  the  ring-bolt  to  which  he  was 
hanging  like  a  barnacle.  As  soon  as  he  had 
gained  shelter,  David  gasped : 

"Did  you  ever  see  a  storm  as  bad  as  this, 
Peter?" 

"It  is  a  smart  gale  of  wind,"  spluttered  the 
bos'n,  "and  two  of  our  boats  vas  washed  away 
like  they  vas  chips  already.  But  maybe  she 
get  worse  by  night." 

On  his  reeling  bridge  Captain  Thrasher  still 
held  his  post,  after  an  all-night  vigil.  The 
cadet  was  cheered  at  the  sight  of  this  grim  and 
silent  figure,  no  longer  a  "fair-weather  sailor," 
but  the  master  of  the  liner,  doing  his  duty  as  it 
came  to  him,  braced  to  meet  any  crisis.  The 
men  were  going  about  their  work  as  usual, 
and  David  began  cleaning  the  salt-stained  brass 
in  the  wheel-house. 

When  he  looked  out  again,  the  chief  officer 
was  waving  his  arm  toward  the  dim,  gray  sky 
line,  and  at  sight  of  David  he  beckoned  the 
lad  to  fetch  him  his  marine  glasses.  Captain 

13 


Thrasher  also  clawed  his  way  to  the  windward 
side  of  the  bridge  and  stared  hard  at  the  sea. 
The  two  men  shouted  in  each  other's  ears, 
then  resumed  their  careful  scrutiny  of  the 
tempest-torn  ocean  in  which  David  could  see 
nothing  but  the  racing  billows.  Presently  the 
chief  officer  shook  his  head  and  folded  his 
arms  as  if  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said  or 
done. 

After  a  while  David  made  out  a  brown  patch 
of  something  which  was  tossed  into  view  for  an 
instant  and  then  vanished  as  if  it  would  never 
come  up  again.  If  it  were  a  wreck  it  seemed 
impossible  that  any  one  could  be  left  alive  in 
such  weather  as  this.  As  the  Roanoke  forged 
slowly  ahead,  the  drifting  object  grew  more 
distinct.  With  a  pair  of  glasses  from  the  rack 
in  the  wheel-house,  David  fancied  he  could 
make  out  some  kind  of  a  signal  streaming  from 
the  splintered  stump  of  a  mast.  Captain 
Thrasher  was  pulling  at  his  brown  beard  with 
nervous  hands,  but  he  did  not  stir  from  his 
place  on  the  bridge.  Presently  he  asked  David 
to  call  the  third  officer.  There  was  a  con 
sultation,  and  fragments  of  speech  were  blown 

14 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

to  the  cadet's  eager  ears:  "No  use  in  trying  to 
get  a  boat  out.  .  .  .  God  help  the  poor  souls 
.  .  .  she'll  founder  before  night.  .  .  ." 

Could  it  be  that  the  liner  would  make  no 
effort  to  rescue  the  crew  of  this  sinking  vessel, 
thought  David.  Was  this  the  kind  of  seaman 
ship  a  man  learned  in  steamers?  He  hated 
Captain  Thrasher  with  sudden,  white-hot  anger. 
He  was  only  a  youngster,  but  he  was  ready  to 
risk  his  life,  just  as  his  father  would  have  done 
before  him.  And  still  the  liner  struggled  on 
her  course  without  sign  of  veering  toward  the 
wreck  whose  deck  seemed  level  with  the  sea. 

The  forlorn  hulk  was  dropping  astern  when 
Captain  Thrasher  buffeted  his  way  to  the 
wheel-house  and  stood  by  a  speaking-tube. 
As  if  he  were  working  out  some  difficult  prob 
lem  with  himself,  he  hesitated,  and  said  aloud: 

"It  is  the  only  chance.  But  I'm  afraid  the 
vessel  yonder  can't  live  long  enough  to  let  me 
try  it." 

The  orders  he  sent  below  had  to  do  with 
tanks,  valves,  pipes,  and  strainers.  David 
could  not  make  head  or  tail  of  it.  What  had 
the  engineer's  department  to  do  with  saving 

15 


life  in  time  of  shipwreck  ?  Stout-hearted  sailors 
and  a  life-boat  were  needed  to  show  what 
Anglo-Saxon  courage  meant.  The  cadet  ran  to 
the  side  and  looked  back  at  the  wreck.  He  was 
sure  that  he  could  make  out  two  or  three  people 
on  top  of  her  after  deck  house,  and  others 
clustered  far  forward.  They  might  be  dead  for 
all  he  knew,  but  the  pitiful  distress  signal 
beckoned  to  the  liner  as  if  it  were  a  spoken 
message.  When  David  went  off  watch  he 
found  a  group  of  cadets  as  angry  and  impatient 
as  himself. 

"He  ought  to  have  sent  a  boat  away  two 
hours  ago,"  cried  one. 

"I'd  volunteer  in  a  minute,"  exclaimed  an 
other.  "  The  old  man's  lost  his  nerve." 

The  bos'n  was  passing  and  halted  to  roar: 

"Hold  your  tongues,  you  know-noddings,  you. 
A  boat  would  be  smashed  against  our  side  like 
egg-shells  and  lose  all  our  people.  If  the  wedder 
don't  moderate  pretty  quick,  it  vas  good-by 
and  Davy  Jones's  locker  for  them  poor  fellers." 

But  the  cadets  soon  saw  that  Captain 
Thrasher  was  not  running  away  from  the  wreck, 

even  though  he  was  not  trying  to  send  aid.    The 

16 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

Roanoke  was  hovering  to  leeward  as  if  waiting 
for  something  to  happen.  It  was  heart-break 
ing  to  watch  the  last  hours  of  the  doomed 
vessel.  At  last  Captain  Thrasher  was  ready  to 
try  his  own  way  of  sending  help.  The  oldest 
cadet  who  was  in  charge  of  the  signal  locker 
came  on  deck  with  an  armful  of  bunting.  One 
by  one  he  bent  the  bright  flags  to  a  halliard; 
they  crept  aloft,  broke  out  of  stops,  and  snapped 
in  the  wind.  David,  who  had  studied  the  inter 
national  code  in  spare  hours,  was  able  to  read 
the  message: 

Will  stand  by  to  give  you  assistance. 

Only  the  iron  discipline  that  ruled  the  liner 
from  bridge  to  fire  room  kept  the  cadets  from 
cheering.  David  expected  to  see  a  boat  dropped 
from  the  lofty  davits,  but  there  were  no  signs  of 
activity  along  the  liner's  streaming  decks.  It 
looked  as  if  Captain  Thrasher  would  let  those 
helpless  people  drown  before  his  eyes. 

After  a  little  the  Roanoke  began  to  swing  very 
slowly  off  her  course.  Then  as  the  seas  began 
to  smash  against  her  weather  side,  she  rolled 
until  it  seemed  as  if  her  funnels  must  be  jerked 
out  by  the  roots.  Inch  by  inch,  however,  she 

17 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

crept  onward  along  the  arc  of  a  mile-wide  circle 
of  which  the  wreck  was  the  centre.  Even  now 
David  did  not  at  all  understand  what  the 
captain  was  trying  to  do.  The  great  circle  had 
been  half-way  covered  before  the  cadet  hap 
pened  to  notice  that  a  band  of  smoother  water 
was  stretching  to  leeward  of  the  steamer,  and 
that  as  if  by  a  miracle  the  huge  combers  were 
ceasing  to  break.  An  eddying  gust  brought 
him  a  strong  smell  of  oil,  and  he  went  to  the 
rail  and  stared  down  at  the  sea.  The  Roanoke 
heaved  up  her  black  side  until  he  saw  smears 
of  a  yellow  liquid  trickle  from  several  pipes, 
and  spread  out  over  the  frothing  billows  in 
shimmering  sheets. 

Slowly  the  Roanoke  plunged  and  rolled  on 
her  circular  course  until  she  had  ringed  the 
wreck  with  a  streak  of  oily  calm.  But  still  no 
efforts  were  made  to  attempt  a  rescue.  The 
night  was  not  far  off.  The  gray  sky  was  dusky 
and  the  horizon  was  shutting  down  nearer  and 
nearer  in  mist  and  murk.  Once  more  the  liner 
swung  her  head  around  as  if  to  steer  a  smaller 
circle  about  the  helpless  craft.  In  an  agony  of 
impatience  David  was  praying  that  she  might 
18 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

stay  afloat  a  little  longer.  Clear  around  this 
second  and  smaller  circuit  the  liner  wallowed 
until  two  rings  of  oil-streaked  calm  were 
wrapped  around  the  wreck.  Now  surely,  Cap 
tain  Thrasher  would  risk  sending  a  boat.  But 
the  bearded  commander  gave  no  orders  and 
only  shook  his  head  now  and  then,  as  if  arguing 
with  himself. 

Then  for  the  third  and  last  time  the  Roanoke 
began  to  weave  a  path  around  the  water-logged 
hulk,  which  was  so  close  at  hand  that  the  cast 
aways  could  be  counted.  One,  two,  three  aft, 
and  three  more  sprawled  up  in  the  bow.  One 
or  two  of  them  were  waving  their  arms  in 
feeble  signals  for  help.  A  great  sea  washed 
over  them,  and  one  vanished  forever.  It  was 
cruel  beyond  words  for  those  who  were  left 
alone  to  have  to  watch  the  liner  circle  them 
time  after  time. 

The  stormy  twilight  was  deepening  into  night 
when  this  third  or  inner  circle  was  completed. 
The  onset  of  the  seas  was  somewhat  broken 
when  it  met  the  outside  ring  of  oil.  Then  rush 
ing  onward,  the  diminished  breakers  came  to 
the  second  protecting  streak  and  their  menace 

19 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

was  still  further  lessened.  Once  more  the  sea 
moved  on  to  attack  the  wreck,  and  coming  to 
the  third  floating  barrier  the  combers  toppled 
over  in  harmless  surf,  such  as  that  which 
washes  the  beach  on  a  summer  day  when  the 
wind  is  off  shore. 

It  was  possible  now  for  the  first  time  to 
launch  a  boat  from  the  lee  side  of  the  liner, 
if  the  help  so  carefully  and  shrewdly  planned 
had  not  come  too  late.  Landlubber  though  he 
was,  and  convinced  beforehand  that  there  was 
no  room  for  seamanship  aboard  a  steamer, 
David  Downes  began  to  perceive  the  fact  that 
Captain  Thrasher  knew  how  to  meet  problems 
which  would  have  baffled  a  seaman  of  the  old 
school.  But  even  while  the  third  officer  was 
calling  the  men  to  one  of  the  leeward  boats, 
the  sodden  wreck  dove  from  view  and  rose  so 
sluggishly  that  it  was  plain  to  see  her  life  was 
nearly  done.  The  hearts  of  those  who  looked 
at  her  almost  ceased  to  beat.  It  could  not  be 
that  she  was  going  to  drown  with  help  so  near. 
As  the  shadows  deepened  across  the  leaden  sea, 
David  forgot  that  he  was  only  a  cadet,  forgot 
the  discipline  that  had  taught  him  to  think  only 

90 


OIL  UPON  THE  WATERS 

of  his  own  duties,  and  rushing  toward  the  boat 
he  called  to  the  third  officer: 

"Oh,  Mr.  Briggs,  can't  I  have  an  oar?  I 
can  pull  a  man's  weight  in  the  boat.  Please 
let  me  go  with  you." 

The  ruddy  mate  spun  on  his  heel  and  glared 
at  the  boy  as  if  about  to  knock  him  down. 
Just  then  a  Norwegian  seaman  hung  back, 
muttering  to  himself  as  if  not  at  all  anxious  to 
join  this  forlorn  hope.  The  mate  glanced  from 
him  to  the  flushed  face  and  quivering  lip  of  the 
stalwart  lad.  Mr.  Briggs  was  an  American,  and 
in  this  moment  blood  was  thicker  than  water. 

"Pile  in  amidships,"  said  he.  "You  are  my 
kind,  youngster." 

Mr.  Briggs  shoved  the  Norwegian  headlong, 
and  David  leaped  into  the  boat  just  as  the 
creaking  falls  began  to  lower  her  from  the 
davits.  The  boat  swung  between  sea  and  sky 
as  the  liner  rolled  far  down  to  leeward  and 
back  again.  Then  in  a  smother  of  broken 
water  the  stout  life-boat  met  the  rising  sea,  the 
automatic  tackle  set  her  free,  and  she  was 
shoved  away  in  the  nick  of  time  to  escape 
being  shattered  against  the  steamer. 

31 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

As  the  seven  seamen  and  the  cadet  tugged 
madly  at  the  sweeps  and  the  boat  climbed  the 
slope  of  a  green  swell,  Mr.  Briggs  shouted : 

"She  can't  last  much  longer.  Lay  into  it, 
my  buckos.  Give  it  to  her.  There's  a  wo 
man  on  board,  God  bless  her.  I  can  see  her 
skirt.  No,  it's  a  little  girl.  She's  lashed  aft 
with  the  skipper.  Now  break  your  backs. 
H-^e-a-v-e  a-1-1!" 


22 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SEA  WAIFS 

As  the  liner's  life-boat  drew  nearer  the 
foundering  hulk,  the  men  at  the  oars  could  see 
how  fearful  was  the  plight  of  the  handful  of 
survivors.  The  arms  of  a  gray-haired  man 
were  clasped  around  a  slip  of  a  girl,  whose  long, 
fair  hair  whipped  in  the  wind  like  seaweed. 
They  were  bound  fast  to  a  jagged  bit  of  the 
mizzen-mast  and  appeared  to  be  lifeless.  Far 
forward  amid  a  tangle  of  rigging  and  broken 
spars,  three  seamen  sprawled  upon  the  fore 
castle  head.  If  any  of  them  were  alive,  they 
were  too  far  gone  to  help  save  themselves. 

Just  beyond  the  innermost  ring  of  oil-streaked 
sea  there  was  a  patch  of  quiet  water,  and  as 
the  boat  hovered  on  the  greasy  swells,  the  third 
officer  called  to  his  men : 

"One  of  us  must  swim  aboard  with  a  line." 

The  excited  cadet,  straining  at  his  sweep, 
23 


A  CADET  OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

yelled  back  that  he  was  ready  to  try  it,  but  the 
officer  gruffly  replied: 

"This  is  a  man's  job.  Bos'n,  you  sung  out 
next.  Over  you  go." 

The  bos'n  was  already  knotting  the  end  of  a 
heaving  line  around  his  waist,  and  without  a 
word  he  tossed  the  end  to  the  officer  in  the 
stern.  David  Downes  bent  to  his  oar  again  with 
bitter  disappointment  in  his  dripping  face.  He 
was  a  strong  swimmer  and  not  afraid  of  the 
task,  for  this  was  the  kind  of  sea  life  he  had 
fondly  pictured  for  himself.  But  he  had  to 
watch  the  bos'n  battle  hand-over-hand  toward 
the  wreck,  the  line  trailing  in  his  wake.  Then 
a  sea  picked  up  the  swimmer  and  flung  him  on 
the  broken  deck  that  was  awash  with  the  sea. 
Those  in  the  boat  feared  that  he  had  been 
killed  or  crippled  by  the  shock,  and  waited 
tensely  until  his  hoarse  shout  came  back  to 
them.  They  could  see  him  creeping  on  hands 
and  knees  across  the  poop,  now  and  then  halting 
to  grasp  a  block  or  rope's  end  until  he  could 
shake  himself  clear  of  the  seas  that  buried  him. 

At  length  he  gained  the  cabin  roof,  and  his 
shadowy  figure  toiled  desperately  while  he 

24 


THE  SEA  WAIFS 

wrenched  the  little  girl  from  the  arms  of  her 
protector  and  tied  the  line  about  her.  The 
life-boat  was  warily  steered  under  the  stern  as 
the  bos'n  staggered  to  the  bulwark  with  his 
burden.  With  a  warning  cry  he  swung  her 
clear.  A  white-backed  wave  caught  her  up 
and  bore  her  swiftly  toward  the  boat  as  if  she 
were  cradled.  Two  seamen  grasped  her  as  she 
was  swept  past  them  and  lifted  her  over  the 
gunwale. 

Again  the  bos'n  shouted,  and  the  master  of 
the  vessel  was  heaved  overboard  and  rescued 
with  the  same  deft  quickness.  Mr.  Briggs  re 
joiced  to  find  that  both  had  life  in  them,  and 
forced  stimulants  between  their  locked  and 
pallid  lips,  while  his  men  rowed  toward  the 
bow  of  the  wreck.  The  three  survivors  still  left 
on  board  could  no  longer  be  seen  in  the  gray 
darkness. 

David  Downes,  fairly  beside  himself  with 
pity  and  with  anger  at  the  sea  which  must 
surely  swallow  the  wreck  before  daylight  could 
come  again,  had  tied  the  end  of  a  second  line 
around  his  middle  while  the  boat  was  waiting 
under  the  stern.  Now,  as  the  mate  hesitated 

25 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

whether  to  attempt  another  rescue,  the  cadet 
called  out: 

"It's  my  turn  next,  sir.  I  know  I  can  make 
it.  Oh,  won't  you  let  me  try?" 

"Shut  your  mouth  and  sit  still,"  hotly  re 
turned  Mr.  Briggs. 

He  had  no  more  than  spoken  when  David 
jumped  overboard  and  began  to  swim  with 
confident  stroke  toward  the  vague  outlines  of 
the  vessel's  bow.  The  whistle  of  the  liner  was 
bellowing  a  recall,  and  her  signal  lamps  twinkled 
their  urgent  message  from  aloft.  It  was  plain 
to  read  that  Captain  Thrasher  was  troubled 
about  the  safety  of  his  boat's  crew,  but  they 
doggedly  hung  to  their  station. 

As  for  David,  his  strength  was  almost  spent 
before  he  was  able  to  fetch  alongside  his  goal. 
He  had  never  fought  for  his  life  in  water  like 
this  which  clubbed  and  choked  him.  By  great 
good  luck  he  was  tossed  close  to  a  broken 
gap  in  the  vessel's  waist,  and  gained  a  foothold 
after  barking  his  hands  and  knees.  Half 
stunned,  he  groped  his  way  forward  until  a 
feeble  cry  for  help  from  the  gloom  nerved  him 

to  a  supreme  effort.    He  found  the  man  whose 
26 


THE   SEA  WAIFS 

voice  had  guided  him,  and  was  trying  to  pull 
him  toward  the  side  when  the  wreck  seemed 
to  drop  from  under  their  feet.  Then  David 
felt  the  bow  rise,  rearing  higher  and  higher, 
until  it  hung  for  a  moment  and  descended  in  a 
long,  sickening  swoop  as  if  it  were  heading 
straight  for  the  bottom.  There  was  barely 
time  to  make  fast  a  bight  of  the  line  under  the 
sailor's  shoulders  before,  clinging  to  each  other, 
the  two  were  washed  out  to  sea. 

The  men  in  the  boat  discerned  the  wild 
plunge  of  the  sinking  craft,  and  guessing  that 
she  was  in  the  last  throes,  they  hauled  on  the 
line  with  might  and  main.  Their  double  bur 
den  was  dragged  clear,  just  as  the  bark  rose 
once  more  as  if  doing  her  best  to  make  a  brave 
finish  of  it,  and  a  few  moments  later  there  was 
nothing  but  seething  water  where  she  had  been. 

When  David  came  to  himself  he  was  slumped 
on  the  bottom  boards  beside  the  groaning  sea 
man  he  had  saved.  They  were  close  to  the 
Roanoke  and  her  passengers  were  cheering  from 
the  promenade  deck.  It  was  a  dangerous  task 
to  hoist  the  boat  up  the  liner's  side,  but  cool- 
headed  seamanship  accomplished  it  without 

27 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

mishap.  Several  stewards  and  the  ship's  doctor 
were  waiting  to  care  for  the  rescued,  and  as 
David  limped  forward  he  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  slender  girl  being  borne  toward  the  state 
rooms  of  the  second  cabin. 

Men  and  women  passengers  hurried  after  the 
cadet,  for  the  bos'n  had  lost  no  time  in  telling 
the  story,  winding  up  with  the  verdict : 

"A  cadet  vas  good  for  somethings  if  you  give 
him  a  chance." 

Wobbly  and  water-logged,  David  dodged 
the  ovation  and  steered  for  his  bunk  as  fast  as 
he  was  able.  The  other  cadets  of  his  watch 
shook  his  hand  and  slapped  him  on  the  back 
until  he  feebly  cried  for  mercy,  and  brought 
him  enough  hot  coffee  and  food  to  stock  a 
schooner's  galley. 

"There  will  be  speeches  in  the  first  cabin 
saloon,  and  the  hat  passed  for  the  heroes,  and 
maybe  a  medal  for  your  manly  little  chest," 
said  one  of  the  boys.  "You  are  a  lucky  pup. 
How  did  you  get  a  chance  to  kick  up  such  a 
fuss?" 

David  was  proud  that  he  had  been  able  to 

play  a  part  in  a  deed  of  real  seafaring,  such  as 

28 


THE   SEA  WAIFS 

he  had  thought  was  no  longer  to  be  found  in 
steamers.  He  had  changed  his  mind.  He  was 
going  to  stick  by  the  Roanoke  and  Captain 
Thrasher,  by  Jove,  and  with  swelling  heart  he 
answered : 

"I  just  did  it,  that's  all,  without  waiting  for 
orders.  I  tell  you,  fellows,  that's  the  kind  of 
thing  that  makes  going  to  sea  worth  while,  even 
in  a  tea-kettle." 

"You  did  it  without  orders?"  echoed  the 
oldest  cadet  with  a  whistle  of  surprise. 
"Um-m-m!  wait  till  the  old  man  gets  after 
you.  You  may  wish  you  hadn't." 

"What!  When  I  saved  a  man's  life  in  the 
dark  from  a  vessel  that  went  down  under  us? 
I  did  my  duty,  that  is  all  there  is  to  it." 

"It  wasn't  discipline.  It  was  plain  foolish 
ness,"  was  the  unwelcome  reply.  "I  am 
mighty  well  pleased  with  you  myself,  but — 
well,  there's  no  use  spoiling  your  fun." 

Next  day  the  Roanoke  was  steaming  full 
speed  ahead  toward  the  Newfoundland  banks, 
the  storm  left  far  behind  her.  David  Downes, 
every  muscle  stiff  and  sore,  went  on  duty,  still 

hoping  that  his  deed  would  be  applauded  by 

29 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK   STAR  LINE 

the  ship's  officers.  While  he  scoured,  cleaned, 
and  trotted  this  way  and  that  at  the  beck  and 
call  of  the  bos'n,  a  bebuttoned  small  boy  in  a 
bob-tailed  jacket  hailed  him  with  this  brief 
message : 

"He  wants  to  see  you  in  his  room,  right  away." 
The  cadet  followed  the  captain's  cabin  boy 
in  some  fear  and  trembling.  He  found  the  sea 
lord  of  the  Roanoke  stretched  in  an  arm-chair, 
while  a  steward  was  cutting  his  shoes  from  his 
feet  with  a  sailor's  knife.  The  captain  tried  to 
hide  the  pitiable  condition  of  his  swollen  feet 
as  if  ashamed  of  being  caught  in  such  a  plight, 
and  grumbled  to  the  steward : 

"Thirty-six  hours  on  the  bridge  ought  not  to 
do  that.  But  those  shoes  never  did  fit  me." 
To  David  he  exclaimed  more  severely : 
"So  you  are  the  cadet  that  jumped  overboard 
without  orders.  Don't  do  it  again.  If  you  are 
going  to  sail  with  us  next  voyage,  the  watch 
officer  will  see  that  you  have  no  shore  leave  in 
New  York.  You  will  be  on  duty  at  the  gang 
way  while  the  ship  is  in  port.  What  kind  of  a 
vessel  would  this  be  if  all  hands  did  as  they 
pleased?" 

30 


THE  SEA  WAIFS 

Standing  very  stiffly  in  the  middle  of  the 
cabin,  David  chewed  his  lip  to  hold  back  his 
grief  and  anger.  Overnight  he  had  come  to 
love  the  sea  and  to  feel  that  he  was  ready  to 
work  and  wait  for  the  slow  process  of  pro 
motion.  But  this  punishment  fairly  crushed 
him.  He  could  only  stammer: 

"I  did  the  best  I  could  to  be  of  service,  sir." 

The  captain's  stern  face  softened  a  trifle 
and  there  was  a  kindly  gleam  in  his  gray  eye 
as  he  said: 

"I  put  Mr.  Briggs  in  charge  of  the  boat,  not 
you.  That  is  all  now.  Hold  on  a  minute.  I 
hope  you  are  going  to  sail  with  us  next  voyage." 

The  cadet  tried  to  speak  but  the  words  would 
not  come,  and  he  hurried  on  deck.  After  the 
first  shock  he  found  himself  repeating  the  cap 
tain's  final  words: 

"I  hope  you  are  going  to  sail  with  us  next 
voyage." 

Said  David  to  himself  a  little  more  cheerfully; 

"That  means  he  wants  me  to  stay  with  him. 
It  is  a  whole  lot  for  him  to  say,  and  more  than 
he  ever  told  the  other  fellows.  Maybe  I  did 
wrong,  but  I'm  glad  of  it." 

31 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

He  would  have  been  in  a  happier  frame  of 
mind  could  he  have  overheard  Captain  Thrasher 
say  to  Mr.  Briggs  after  the  boy  had  gone  for 
ward: 

"I  don't  want  the  silly  passengers  to  spoil 
the  boy  with  a  lot  of  heroics.  He  has  the  right 
stuff  in  him.  He  is  worth  hammering  into 
shape.  I  guess  I  knocked  some  of  the  hero 
nonsense  out  of  his  noddle,  and  now  I  want  you 
to  work  him  hard  and  watch  how  he  takes  his 
medicine." 

As  soon  as  he  was  again  off  watch,  David  was 
very  anxious  to  go  in  search  of  the  castaways, 
but  he  was  forbidden  to  be  on  the  passenger 
deck  except  when  sent  there.  The  captain's 
steward  had  told  him  that  the  captain  of  the 
lost  bark,  the  Pilgrim,  was  able  to  lie  in  a 
steamer  chair  on  deck,  but  that  the  little  girl 
could  not  leave  her  berth.  The  bos'n  was 
quick  to  read  the  lad's  anxiety  to  know  more 
about  these  two  survivors,  and  craftily  sug 
gested  in  passing: 

"Mebbe  I  could  use  one  more  hand  mit  the 
awnings  on  the  promenade  deck,  eh?" 

David  was  more  than  willing,  and  as  he 
32 


THE   SEA  WAIFS 

busied  himself  with  stays  and  lashings  he  cast 
his  eye  aft  until  he  could  see  the  gray-haired 
skipper  of  the  Pilgrim  huddled  limply  in  a 
chair,  a  forlorn  picture  of  misery  and  weakness. 
David  managed  to  work  his  way  nearer  until  he 
was  able  to  greet  the  haggard,  brooding  ship 
master  who  was  dwelling  more  with  his  great 
loss  than  with  his  wonderful  escape,  as  he 
tremulously  muttered  in  response : 

"Ten  good  men  and  a  fine  vessel  gone.  My 
mate  and  four  hands  went  when  the  masts  fell. 
The  others  were  caught  forrud.  And  all  I 
owned  went  with  her,  all  but  my  little  Mar 
garet.  If  it  wasn't  for  her  I'd  wish  I  was  with 
the  Pilgrim." 

"Is  she  coming  around  all  right?"  asked  Da 
vid,  eagerly.  "We  were  afraid  we  were  too  late." 

"She's  too  weak  to  talk  much,  but  she 
smiled  at  me,"  and  the  ship-master's  seamed 
face  suddenly  became  radiant.  "So  you  were 
in  the  boat.  It  was  a  fine  bit  of  work,  and  your 
skipper  ought  to  be  proud  of  you,  and  proud 
of  himself.  That  three-ringed  oil  circus  he 
invented  was  new  to  me.  I  thank  you  all  from 
the  bottom  of  my  heart." 

33 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

The  cadet  grinned  at  thought  of  Captain 
Thrasher's  "pride"  in  him,  but  said  nothing 
about  his  own  part  in  the  rescue  and  inquired 
in  an  anxious  tone: 

"Does  the  doctor  think  she  will  be  able  to 
walk  ashore?  Had  you  been  dismasted  and 
awash  very  long?" 

"Two  days,"  was  the  slow  reply.  "But  I 
don't  want  to  think  of  it  now.  My  mind  kind 
of  breaks  away  from  its  moorings  when  I  try 
to  talk  about  it,  and  my  head  feels  awful  queer. 
John  Bracewell  is  my  name.  I  live  in  Brooklyn 
when  ashore.  You  must  come  over  and  see  us 
when  I  feel  livelier." 

"But  about  the  little  girl,"  persisted  David. 
"Is  she  your  granddaughter?" 

"Yes,  my  only  one,  and  all  I  have  to  tie  to. 
My  boy  was  lost  at  sea  and  his  wife  with  him. 
And  she  is  all  there  is  left.  She's  sailed  with 
me  since  she  was  ten  years  old.  She's  most 
thirteen  now,  and  I  never  lost  a  man  or  a  spar 
before." 

The  broken  ship-master  fell  to  brooding  again, 
and  there  was  so  much  grief  in  his  tired  eyes 
and  uncertain  voice  that  David  forbore  to 
34 


THE  SEA  WAIFS 

ask  him  any  more  questions.  When  he  went 
forward  again,  David  sought  the  forecastle  to 
learn  what  he  could  about  the  lone  seaman  of 
the  Pilgrim's  crew.  A  group  of  Roanoke  hands 
were  listening  to  the  story  of  the  loss  of  the 
bark  as  told  by  the  battered  man  with  ban 
daged  head  and  one  arm  in  a  sling  who  sat 
propped  in  a  spare  bunk.  The  cadets  were 
forbidden  to  loaf  in  the  forecastle,  and  after  a 
word  or  two  David  lingered  in  the  doorway, 
where  he  could  hear  the  sailor's  voice  rise  and 
fall  in  such  fragments  of  his  tale  as  these: 

"Broke  his  heart  in  two  to  lose  her  .  .  . 
American-built  bark  of  the  good  old  times,  the 
Pilgrim  was  .  .  .  me  the  only  Yankee  seaman 
aboard,  too  .  .  .  I'll  ship  out  of  New  York  in 
one  of  these  tin  pots,  I  guess  .  .  .  No,  the  old 
man  ain't  likely  to  find  another  ship.  .  .  . 
He's  down  and  out.  .  .  .  I'm  sorry  for  him 
and  the  little  girl.  She's  all  right,  she  is." 

The  Roanoke  was  nearing  port  at  a  twenty- 
knot  gait,  and  the  cadets  were  hard  at  work 
helping  to  make  the  great  ship  spick  and  span 
for  her  stately  entry  at  New  York.  Now  and 
then  David  Downes  found  an  errand  to  the 
.  35 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

second  cabin  deck,  hoping  to  find  Captain 
BracewelPs  granddaughter  strong  enough  to 
leave  her  room.  But  he  had  to  content  him 
self  with  talking  to  the  master  of  the  Pilgrim, 
who  was  like  a  man  benumbed  in  mind  and 
body.  He  was  all  adrift  and  the  future  was 
black  with  doubts  and  fears.  He  had  lived  and 
toiled  and  dared  in  his  lost  bark  for  twenty 
years.  David  could  understand  something  of 
his  emotions.  His  father  had  been  one  of  this 
race  of  old-fashioned  seamen,  and  the  boy 
could  recall  his  sorrow  at  seeing  the  American 
sailing  ships  vanish  one  by  one  from  the  seas 
they  had  ruled.  Captain  Bracewell  was  fit  for 
many  active  years  afloat,  but  he  was  too  old  to 
begin  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder  in  steam  vessels, 
and  there  was  the  slenderest  hope  of  his  finding 
a  command  in  the  kind  of  a  ship  he  had  lost. 

These  thoughts  haunted  David  and  troubled 
his  sleep.  But  he  did  not  realize  how  much 
he  was  taking  the  tragedy  to  heart  until  the 
afternoon  of  the  last  day  out.  He  was  over 
joyed  to  see  the  "little  girl"  snuggled  in  a  chair 
beside  her  grandfather.  She  was  so  slight  and 
delicate  by  contrast  with  the  ship-master's 


THE  SEA  WAIFS 

rugged  bulk  that  she  looked  like  a  drooping 
white  flower  nestled  against  a  rock.  But  her 
eyes  were  brave  and  her  smile  was  bright,  as 
her  grandfather  called  out: 

"David  Downes,  ahoy!  Here's  my  Margaret 
that  wants  to  know  the  fine  big  boy  I've  been 
telling  her  so  much  about." 

Boy  and  girl  gazed  at  each  other  with  frank 
interest  and  curiosity.  Even  before  David  had 
a  chance  to  know  her,  he  felt  as  if  he  were  her 
big  brother  standing  ready  to  help  her  in  any 
time  of  need.  Margaret  was  the  first  to  speak: 

"I  wish  I  could  have  seen  you  swimming  off 
to  the  poor  old  Pilgrim.  Oh,  but  that  was 
splendid." 

David  blushed  and  made  haste  to  say: 

"I  haven't  had  a  chance  to  do  anything  for 
you  aboard  ship.  I  wish  I  could  hear  how 
you  are  after  you  get  ashore." 

"You  are  coming  over  to  see  us  before  you 
sail,  aren't  you?"  spoke  up  Captain  Bracewell, 
with  a  trace  of  his  old  hearty  manner. 

"I'd  be  awful  glad  to,"  David  began,  and 
then  he  remembered  that  if  he  intended  stick 
ing  to  the  Roanoke  he  must  stay  aboard  as 

37 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

punishment  for  trying  to  do  his  duty.  So  he 
finished  very  lamely.  "I — I  can't  see  you  in 
port  this  time." 

Margaret  looked  so  disappointed  that  he 
stumbled  through  an  excuse  which  did  not 
mean  much  of  anything.  He  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  stay  in  the  ship  as  a  cadet,  even  though 
he  was  forbidden  to  be  a  hero.  He  realized,  for 
one  thing,  how  ashamed  he  would  be  to  let  these 
two  know  that  he  had  almost  decided  to  quit 
the  sea.  He  had  played  a  man's  part  and  the 
call  of  the  deep  water  had  a  new  meaning. 
But  it  would  never  do  to  let  Margaret  know 
that  his  part  in  the  Pilgrim  rescue  had  got  him 
into  trouble  with  his  captain. 

David  was  called  away  from  his  friends,  and 
did  not  see  them  again  until  evening.  A  con 
cert  was  held  in  the  first-class  dining  saloon, 
and  the  president  of  a  great  corporation,  a 
famous  author,  and  a  clergyman  of  renown 
made  speeches  in  praise  of  the  heroism  of  the 
Roanoke's  boat  crew.  Then  the  prima  donna 
of  a  grand-opera  company  volunteered  to  collect 
a  fund  which  should  be  divided  among  the 
heroes  and  the  castaways.  She  returned  from 
38 


THE  SEA  WAIFS 

her  quest  through  the  crowded  saloon  with  a 
heaping  basket  of  bank-notes  and  coin.  There 
was  more  applause  when  Captain  Bracewell 
was  led  forward,  much  against  his  will.  But 
instead  of  the  expected  thanks  for  the  generous 
gift,  he  squared  his  slouching  shoulders  and 
standing  as  if  he  were  on  his  own  quarter-deck, 
his  deep  voice  rang  out  with  its  old-time 
resonance: 

"You  mean  well,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  but 
my  little  girl  and  I  don't  want  your  charity.  I 
expect  to  get  back  my  health  and  strength,  and 
I'm  not  ready  for  Sailor's  Snug  Harbor  yet.  We 
thank  you  just  the  same,  though,  but  there's 
those  that  need  it  worse." 

David  Downes  was  outside,  peering  through 
an  open  port,  for  he  knew  that  the  concert  was 
no  place  for  a  Roanoke  "hero."  He  could  not 
hear  all  that  the  captain  of  the  Pilgrim  had  to 
say,  but  the  ship-master's  manner  told  the  story. 
The  cadet  had  a  glimpse  of  Margaret  sitting  in 
a  far  corner  of  the  great  room.  She  clapped 
her  hands  when  her  grandfather  was  done 
speaking,  and  there  was  the  same  proud  inde 
pendence  in  the  poise  of  her  head.  David 

39 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

sighed,  and  as  he  turned  away  bumped  into 
the  lone  seaman  of  the  Pilgrim  who  had  been 
gazing  over  his  shoulder. 

"He's  a  good  skipper,"  said  the  sailor. 
"But  he's  an  old  fool.  He's  goin'  to  need  that 
cash,  and  need  it  bad.  All  he  ever  saved  at 
sea  his  friends  took  away  from  him  ashore.  My 
daddy  and  him  was  raised  in  the  same  town, 
and  I  know  all  about  him." 

"Do  you  mean  they'll  have  to  depend  on 
his  getting  to  sea  again?"  asked  David. 

"That's  about  the  size  of  it.  He's  worked 
for  wages  all  his  life,  and  knowin'  no  more  about 
shore-goin'  folks  and  ways  than  a  baby,  he 
never  risked  a  dollar  that  he  didn't  lose.  Here's 
hopin'  he  lands  a  better  berth  than  he  lost." 

"Aye,  aye,"  said  David. 

Next  morning  the  Roanoke  steamed  through 
the  Narrows  with  her  band  playing,  colors 
flying  from  every  mast,  and  her  passengers 
gay  in  their  best  shore-going  clothes.  David 
had  no  chance  to  look  for  Captain  Brace  well 
and  Margaret.  It  was  sad  to  think  of  them 
amid  this  jubilant  company  which  had  scattered 

its  wealth  over  Europe  with  lavish  hand.    The 
40 


THE  SEA  WAIFS 

contrast  touched  David  even  more  as  he 
watched  Captain  Thrasher  give  orders  for 
swinging  the  huge  steamer  into  her  landing. 
With  voice  no  louder  than  if  he  were  talking 
across  a  dinner  table,  the  master  of  the  liner 
waved  away  the  tugs  that  swarmed  out  to 
help  him,  and  with  flawless  judgment  turned 
the  six  hundred  feet  of  vibrant  steel  hull  almost 
in  its  own  length  and  laid  her  alongside  her 
pier  as  delicately  as  a  fisherman  handles  a  dory. 
The  strength  of  fifteen  thousand  horses  and 
the  minds  of  four  hundred  men,  alert  and 
instantly  obedient,  did  the  will  of  this  calm 
man  on  the  bridge.  David  thrilled  at  the 
sight,  and  thought  of  Captain  Bracewell,  as 
fine  a  seaman  in  his  way,  but  belonging  to 
another  era  of  the  ocean. 

The  cadet  was  on  duty  at  the  gangway  when 
the  happy  passengers  streamed  ashore  to  meet 
the  flocks  of  .waiting  friends.  The  decks  were 
almost  deserted  when  the  skipper  of  the  Pil 
grim  and  Margaret  came  along  very  slowly. 
David  ran  to  help  them.  They  were  grateful 
and  glad  to  see  him,  but  the  "little  girl,"  could 
not  hide  her  disappointment  that  her  boy  hero 

41 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

was  not  coming  to  see  them  before  he  sailed. 
She  could  not  understand  his  refusal,  and  when 
she  tried  to  thank  him  for  what  he  had  done 
for  them,  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  Her 
grandfather  had  fallen  back  into  the  hopeless 
depression  of  his  first  day  aboard.  Weak  and 
unnerved  as  he  was,  it  seemed  to  frighten  him 
to  face  the  great  and  roaring  city,  in  which  he 
was  only  a  stranded  ship-master  without  a  ship. 

David  tried  to  be  cheery  at  parting,  but  his 
voice  was  unsteady  as  he  said: 

"I'll  see  you  both  again,  as  soon  as  ever  I 
can  get  ashore.  And  you  must  write  to  me, 
won't  you?" 

Margaret's  last  words  were: 

"You  will  always  find  us  together,  David 
Downes.  And  we'll  think  of  you  every  day  and 
pray  for  you  at  sea." 

They  went  slowly  down  the  gangway  and 
were  lost  in  the  crowd  on  the  pier.  The  cadet 
stood  looking  after  them  and  said  to  himself: 

"I  can  never  be  really  happy  till  he  has 
another  ship.  But  what  in  the  world  can  I  do 
about  it?" 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  FIRE-ROOM  GANG 

CADET  DAVID  DOWNES  was  on  watch  with 
the  fourth  officer  of  the  Roanoke  at  the  for 
ward  gangway.  It  was  their  duty,  while  the 
liner  lay  at  her  pier  in  New  York,  to  see  that 
nobody  came  on  board  except  on  the  ship's 
business,  and  to  prevent  attempts  at  smuggling 
by  the  crew.  David  had  heard  nothing  from 
Captain  Bracewell  and  Margaret  since  they 
went  ashore  three  days  before.  They  had 
taken  such  a  strong  hold  on  his  affection  and 
sympathy  that  he  was  wondering  how  it  fared 
with  these  friends  of  his,  when  a  quarter 
master,  returning  from  an  evening  visit  to  the 
offices  ashore,  handed  the  cadet  two  letters 
from  the  bundle  of  ship's  mail. 

One  envelope  was  bordered  with  black  and 
he  opened  it  first.  The  letter  told  him  of  the 
sudden  death  of  his  uncle,  who  had  gone  to 
live  in  a  Western  city.  This  guardian  had 

43 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK   STAR  LINE 

shown  little  fondness  for  and  interest  in  the 
motherless  boy,  and  David  felt  more  surprise 
than  grief.  But  the  loss  made  him  think  him 
self  left  so  wholly  alone  that  it  seemed  as  if  all 
his  shore  moorings  were  cut.  More  than  ever 
he  longed  for  some  place  to  call  home,  and  for 
people  who  would  be  glad  to  see  him  come 
back  from  the  sea.  It  was  with  a  new  interest, 
therefore,  that  he  read  his  other  letter,  which 
was  signed  in  a  very  precise  hand,  "Margaret 
Hale  Bracewell."  In  it  the  "little  girl"  told  him: 

DEAR  DAVID  DOWNES: 

Grandfather  wants  me  to  write  you  that  we 
are  as  well  as  could  be  expected  and  hoping 
very  much  to  see  you.  We  are  boarding  in 
the  house  with  an  old  shipmate,  Mr.  Abel 
Becket,  who  used  to  sail  with  us.  When  are 
you  coming  to  see  us?  I  am  most  as  well  as 
ever.  We  have  not  found  a  ship,  but  Grand 
father  is  looking  round  and  maybe  we  will  have 
good  news  for  you  next  voyage.  He  tries  to  be 
cheerful,  but  is  very  restless  and  worried.  I 
wish  we  were  in  steam  instead  of  sail,  don't  you  ? 
Good  luck,  and  I  am 

YOUR  SINCERE  AND  RESPECTFUL  FRIEND. 

David  smiled  at  the  "we"  of  this  stanch 
partnership  of  the  Pilgrim,  and  as  soon  as  he 

44 


THE  FIRE-ROOM   GANG 

was  off  watch  he  wrote  a  long  reply,  in  which 
he  told  Margaret  that  his  uncle's  death  made 
him  feel  as  if  he  kind  of  belonged  to  their  little 
family,  for  he  had  nobody  else  to  care  for  and 
be  of  service  to.  Once  or  twice  he  thought  of 
asking  permission  to  leave  the  ship  long  enough 
to  run  over  to  Brooklyn,  but  new  notions  of 
discipline  had  been  pounded  into  him  by  the 
events  of  the  homeward  voyage,  and  he  decided 
to  take  his  detention  on  board  as  part  of  the 
routine  which  made  good  sailors  "in  steam." 

Two  nights  before  sailing  he  happened  to  be 
left  alone  at  the  gangway,  for  the  watch  officer 
had  been  called  to  another  part  of  the  ship.  A 
drizzling  fog  filled  the  harbor,  and  the  arc 
lights  on  the  pier  were  no  more  than  vague 
blobs  of  sickly  yellow.  The  cadet's  attention 
was  roused  by  a  confused  noise  of  shouting, 
singing,  and  swearing  out  toward  the  end  of 
the  pier  shed.  After  making  sure  that  the 
racket  did  not  come  from  the  ship  he  concluded 
that  a  riotous  lot  of  Belgian  firemen  and  rousta 
bouts  were  making  merry.  When  the  watch 
officer  returned,  the  cadet  reported  the  un 
seemly  noise. 

45 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

A  few  minutes  later  a  louder  clamor  arose, 
as  if  the  revellers  had  fallen  to  righting  among 
themselves.  Then  a  quartermaster  came  run 
ning  forward  from  the  after  gangway. 

"Dose  firemen  vill  kill  each  odder,"  he  re 
ported.  "They  tries  to  come  aboard  ship  and  I 
can't  stop  'em." 

The  officer  told  David  to  stay  at  his  post, 
and  hurried  aft  in  the  wake  of  the  quarter 
master.  The  cadet  could  hear  seamen  running 
from  the  other  side  of  the  ship  to  re-enforce  the 
peace  party,  and  presently  one  of  them  dashed 
up  the  pier  as  if  to  call  the  police  patrol  boat, 
which  lay  at  the  next  dock.  The  cadet  had 
seen  enough  of  the  fire-room  force,  a  hundred 
and  fifty  strong,  to  know  that  the  coal-passers 
and  firemen  were  as  brutal  and  disorderly  men 
ashore  as  could  be  found  in  the  slums  of  a  great 
seaport.  But  such  an  uproar  as  this  right  along 
side  the  ship  was  out  of  the  ordinary. 

While  the  cadet  listened  uneasily  to  the  dis 
tant  riot,  his  alert  ears  caught  the  sound  of  a 
splash,  as  if  some  heavy  object  had  been 
dropped  from  a  lower  deck.  On  the  chance 
that  one  of  the  crew  might  have  fallen  over,  he 
46 


THE  FIRE-ROOM  GANG 

ran  to  the  other  side  and  looked  down  at  the 
fog-wreathed  space  of  water  between  the  liner 
and  the  next  pier.  He  could  see  nothing  and 
heard  no  cries  for  help.  A  little  later  there 
came  faintly  to  his  ears  a  second  splash.  It 
somehow  disquieted  him.  The  galley  force 
was  asleep.  Nothing  was  thrown  overboard 
from  the  kitchens  at  this  time  of  night  and  the 
ash-hoists  were  never  dumped  in  port. 

Firemen  sometimes  deserted  ship,  but  no 
deserter  would  be  foolish  enough  to  swim  for 
it  in  the  icy  water  of  early  spring.  David 
dared  not  leave  his  gangway  more  than  a 
minute  or  two  at  a  time.  He  wanted  very 
much  to  know  what  was  going  on  overside 
in  this  mysterious  fashion,  but  there  was  no 
one  in  hailing  distance,  and  the  watch  officer, 
judging  by  the  noise  in  the  pier,  had  his  hands 
full. 

David  had  quick  hearing,  and  in  the  still, 
fog-bound  night  small  sounds  travelled  far. 
Presently  he  fancied  he  heard  words  of  hushed 
talk,  and  a  new  noise  as  if  an  oar  had  been  let 
fall  against  a  thwart.  It  was  his  business  to 
see  that  the  ship  was  kept  clear  of  strangers,  and 
47 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

without  knowing  quite  why,  he  felt  sure  that 
something  wrong  was  going  on.  Finally,  when 
he  could  stand  the  suspense  no  longer,  he  tip 
toed  across  the  deck,  moved  aft  until  he  was 
amidships  between  the  saloon  deck  houses,  and 
crouched  on  a  bench  against  the  rail. 

Cautiously  poking  his  head  over,  he  could 
dimly  discern  the  outline  of  a  small  boat  riding 
close  to  the  ship  as  if  she  were  waiting  for  some 
thing.  She  was  hovering  under  one  of  the 
lower  ports,  which  had  been  left  open  to  resume 
coaling  at  daylight.  Two  or  three  men  were 
moving  like  dark  blots  in  the  little  craft.  Pres 
ently  a  bulky  object  loomed  above  their  heads 
and  slowly  descended.  As  if  suddenly  alarmed, 
the  boat  did  not  wait  for  it,  but  shot  out  in  the 
stream,  and  there  was  the  quick  "lap,  lap"  of 
muffled  oars.  It  was  not  long  before  the  boat 
stole  back,  however,  and  seemed  to  be  trying 
to  pick  up  something  adrift. 

David  did  not  know  what  to  do.  He  guessed 
that  this  might  be  some  kind  of  a  bold  smuggling 
enterprise,  but  it  seemed  hardly  possible  that 
anybody  would  risk  capture  in  this  rash  and 

wholesale  way.    He  was  afraid  of  being  laughed 
48 


THE  FIRE-ROOM  GANG 

at  for  his  pains  if  he  should  raise  an  alarm. 
He  really  knew  so  little  of  this  vast  and  com 
plex  structure  called  a  steamship  that  almost 
any  surprising  performance  might  happen 
among  her  eight  decks.  It  was  duty  to  report 
this  singular  visit,  however,  and  the  officers 
could  do  the  rest. 

He  rose  from  his  seat  and  turned  to  recross 
the  deck,  when  he  was  tripped  and  thrown  on 
his  back  so  suddenly  that  there  was  no  time  to 
cry  out  before  some  one  was  kneeling  on  his 
chest,  with  a  choking  grip  on  his  neck.  His 
eyes  fairly  popping  from  his  head,  David  could 
only  gurgle,  while  he  tried  to  free  himself  from 
this  attack.  The  man  above  him  wore  the  uni 
form  of  a  Roanoke  seaman,  this  much  the  cadet 
could  make  out,  but  the  shadowy  face  so  close 
to  his  own  was  that  of  a  stranger.  He  was 
saying  something,  but  the  lad  was  too  dazed  to 
understand  it.  At  length  the  repetition  of  two 
or  three  phrases  beat  a  slow  way  into  David's 
brain : 

"Forget  it.  Forget  it.  It'll  be  worth  your 
while.  You  get  your  piece  of  it.  Forget  it,  or 
overboard  you  go,  with  your  head  stove  in." 

49 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

Forget  what?  It  was  like  a  bad  dream 
without  head  or  tail,  that  such  a  thing  could 
happen  on  the  deck  of  a  liner  in  port.  Twisting 
desperately,  for  he  was  both  quick  and  strong, 
David  managed  to  sink  his  teeth  in  the  arm 
nearest  him.  The  grip  on  his  throat  weakened 
and  he  yelled  with  a  volume  of  sound  of  which 
the  whistle  of  a  harbor  tug  might  have  been 
proud.  The  assailant  pulled  himself  free, 
kicked  savagely  at  the  boy's  head,  missed  it, 
and  closed  with  him  again  as  if  trying  to  heave 
him  overboard.  But  he  had  caught  a  Tartar, 
and  David  shouted  lustily  while  he  fought. 

It  was  Captain  Thrasher  who  came  most 
unexpectedly  to  the  rescue.  He  was  on  his 
way  back  from  an  after-theatre  supper  party 
ashore,  and  he  launched  his  two  hundred  and 
thirty  pounds  of  seasoned  brawn  and  muscle 
at  the  intruder  before  the  pair  had  heard  him 
coming.  Then  his  great  voice  boomed  from 
one  end  of  the  ship  to  the  other: 

"On  deck!  Bring  a  pair  of  irons!  Are  all 
hands  asleep  ?  What's  all  this  devil's  business  ? ' ' 

The  watch  officer  came  running  up  with  a 
quartermaster  and  two  seamen.  Without  wait- 
so 


Some  one  was  kneeling  on  his  chest,  with  a  choking  grip  on 
his  neck. 


THE  FIRE-ROOM  GANG 

ing  for  explanations  they  fell  upon  the  captive 
whom  Captain  Thrasher  had  tucked  under  one 
arm,  and  handcuffed  him  in  a  twinkling.  Swift 
to  get  at  the  heart  of  a  matter,  the  captain 
snapped  at  David: 

"How  did  it  happen?  Anybody  with  him? 
I  know  the  face  of  that  dirty  murdering 
scoundrel." 

"I  was  just  going  to  report  a  boat  alongside," 
gasped  David. 

Captain  Thrasher  sprang  to  the  rail.  The 
fog  had  begun  to  lift,  and  a  black  blotch 
was  moving  out  toward  the  middle  of  the 
river. 

"After  'em,  Mr.  Enos,"  roared  the  captain 
to  the  fourth  officer.  "Jump  for  the  police 
patrol.  It's  the  Antwerp  tobacco  smuggling 
gang.  I  thought  we  were  rid  of  'em." 

The  officer  took  to  his  heels,  and  in  a  sur 
prisingly  short  time  the  captain  saw  a  launch 
dart  out  from  the  pier  beyond  the  Roanoke, 
her  engines  "chug  chugging"  at  top  speed. 
Making  a  trumpet  of  his  hands,  Captain 
Thrasher  shouted: 

"I  just  now  lost  sight  of  them,  but  the  boat 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

was   headed   for   the   Hoboken   shore.    They 
can't  get  away  if  you  look  sharp." 

Then  the  captain  ordered  his  men  to  lock 
the  captive  in  the  ship's  prison  until  the  police 
came  back.  The  chief  officer  was  roused  out 
and  told  to  search  the  ship  and  to  put  double 
watches  on  the  decks  and  gangways.  Having 
taken  steps  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  the  mischief, 
Captain  Thrasher  fairly  picked  up  David  and 
lugged  him  to  his  cabin.  Dumping  the  lad  on 
a  divan,  the  master  of  the  liner  pawed  him 
over  from  head  to  foot  to  make  sure  no  bones 
were  broken,  and  then  remarked  with  great 
severity : 

"You  are  more  trouble  than  all  my  people 
put  together.  Disobeying  orders  again?" 

"I  guess  I  was,  sir,"  faltered  the  cadet.  " Mr. 
Enos  told  me  not  to  budge  from  the  gangway, 
and  I  went  over  to  see  what  was  going  on." 

"What  was  it?  Speak  up.  I  won't  bite 
you,"  growled  the  captain.  David  told  him  in 
detail  all  that  happened,  but  he  did  not  have 
the  wit  to  put  two  and  two  together.  This 
was  left  for  the  big  man  with  the  wrathful 
gray  eye,  who  fairly  exploded : 

5* 


THE  FIRE-ROOM  GANG 

"Mr.  Enos  is  a  good  seaman,  but  his  brain 
needs  oiling.  It  is  all  as  plain  as  the  nose  on 
your  face.  That  row  on  the  dock  was  all  a 
blind,  put  up  by  two  or  three  of  those  fire-room 
blackguards  from  Antwerp,  who  stand  in  with 
the  gang  of  tobacco  smugglers.  They  figured 
it  out  that  all  hands  on  deck  would  be  pulled 
over  to  the  port  side  and  kept  there  by  their 
infernal  row,  while  their  pals  dumped  the  to 
bacco  out  of  the  starboard  side.  It  was  hidden 
in  the  coal  bunkers,  wrapped  in  rubber  bags. 
And  because  the  police  patrol  boat  berths  close 
by  us,  they  even  decoyed  the  whole  squad  away 
for  a  little  while.  Oh,  Mr.  Enos,  but  you  were 
soft  and  easy." 

The  captain  was  not  addressing  David  so 
much  as  the  world  in  general,  but  the  cadet 
could  not  help  asking: 

"How  about  the  man  that  jumped  on  top  of 
me?" 

"He  was  one  of  them,  the  head  pirate  of  the 
lot,"  said  the  captain.  "He  sneaked  up  from 
below  as  soon  as  the  coast  was  clear,  to  signal 
his  mates  if  anybody  caught  them  at  work  with 
the  boat." 

S3 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

It  was  worth  being  choked  and  thumped  a 
little  to  be  here  in  the  captain's  cabin,  thought 
David,  and  to  be  taken  into  the  confidence  of  the 
great  man.  The  guest  risked  another  question : 

"Did  they  ever  try  it  before,  sir?" 

"Every  ship  in  the  line  has  had  trouble  for 
years  with  these  tobacco-running  firemen.  But 
this  is  the  biggest  thing  they  ever  tried.  Do 
you  expect  me  to  sit  here  yarning  all  night  with 
a  tuppenny  cadet  ?  Go  to  your  bunk  and  report 
to  me  in  the  morning.  You  are  a  young  nui 
sance,  but  you  can  go  ashore  to-morrow  night, 
if  you  want  to.  Punishment  orders  are  sus 
pended.  Get  along  with  you." 

David  turned  in  with  his  mind  sadly  puzzled. 
One  thing  at  least  was  certain.  There  was 
more  in  the  life  of  a  cadet  than  cleaning  paint 
and  brass,  but  was  he  always  going  to  be  in  hot 
water  for  doing  the  right  thing  at  the  wrong 
time?  Before  he  went  to  sleep  he  heard  the 
police  launch  return,  and  stepped  on  deck  long 
enough  to  see  four  prisoners  hauled  on  to  the 
landing  stage. 

When  David  went  on  duty  next  morning  he 
noticed  a  little  group  of  ill-favored  and  un- 
54 


THE  FIRE-ROOM  GANG 

kempt -looking  men  talking  together  on  the  end 
of  the  pier.  One  of  them  made  a  slight  gesture, 
and  the  others  turned  and  stared  toward  the 
cadet.  Then  they  moved  toward  the  street 
without  trying  to  get  aboard  ship.  Mr.  Enos 
called  David  aft  and  told  him: 

"The  police  are  watching  that  bunch  of 
thugs.  Two  of  them  used  to  be  in  our  fire 
room.  All  four  ought  to  be  in  jail.  They  had 
something  to  do  with  the  ruction  last  night,  but 
they  can't  be  identified.  The  bos'n  tells  me  he 
thinks  they  got  wind  that  you  were  the  lad  who 
spoiled  the  game  for  their  pals.  If  you  go 
ashore  after  dark,  keep  a  sharp  eye  out.  They'd 
love  to  catch  you  up  a  dark  street." 

David  looked  solemn  at  this,  but  it  was  too 
much  like  playing  theatricals  to  let  himself 
believe  that  he  was  in  any  kind  of  danger  along 
the  water  front  of  New  York.  It  was  early 
evening  before  he  was  free  to  get  into  his  one 
suit  of  shore-going  clothes  and  head  for  Brook 
lyn  to  look  for  his  friends,  Captain  Bracewell 
and  Margaret.  The  bridge  cars  were  block 
aded  by  an  accident,  and  after  fidgeting  for 
half  an  hour  David  decided  to  walk  across. 

55 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

There  was  more  delay  on  the  other  side  in 
trying  to  find  the  right  street,  and  it  was  get 
ting  toward  nine  o'clock  before  he  rang  the 
bell  of  a  small  brick  house  in  a  solid  block  of 
them  so  much  alike  that  they  suggested  a  row 
of  red  pigeon-holes.  A  sturdy  man  with  hair 
and  mustache  redder  than  his  house  front 
opened  the  door,  and  to  David's  rather  breath 
less  inquiry  answered  in  a  tone  of  dismay: 

"Why,  Captain  John  and  the  little  girl  left 
here  this  very  afternoon.  Bless  my  soul,  are 
you  the  lad  from  the  Roanoke  they  think  so 
much  of?  Come  aboard  and  sit  down.  No, 
they  ain't  coming  back  that  I  know  of.  My 
name  is  Abel  Becket  and  I'm  glad  to  meet  you." 

David  followed  Mr.  Becket  into  the  parlor, 
feeling  as  if  the  world  had  been  turned  upside 
down.  The  sympathetic  sailor  man  hastened 
to  add: 

"They  didn't  expect  to  see  you  this  voyage 
and  they  was  all  broke  up  about  it.  The  old 
man  is  kind  of  flighty  and  I  couldn't  ha'  held 
him  here  with  a  hawser.  They  could  have 
berthed  here  a  month  of  Sundays,  for  he  has 
been  like  a  daddy  to  me." 
56 


THE  FIRE-ROOM  GANG 

"But  where  did  they  go?"  implored  David. 

"All  I  know  is,"  said  Mr.  Becket,  rubbing 
his  chin,  "that  the  old  man  came  home  this 
noon  mighty  glum  and  fretty  after  visitin' 
some  ship-brokers'  offices.  He  told  me  that 
he  heard  how  an  old  ship  of  his,  the  Gleaner, 
had  been  cut  down  to  a  coal-barge.  He  was 
mighty  fond  of  her,  and  it  upset  him  bad. 
And  I  think  he  was  sort  of  hopin'  to  get  her 
again.  Then  he  said  he  was  going  to  move 
over  to  New  York  to  be  close  to  the  shipping 
offices  in  case  anything  turned  up,  and  with 
that  him  and  Margaret  packed  up  and  away 
they  flew." 

"But  why  didn't  they  stay  here  with  you,  Mr. 
Becket?  I  can't  understand  it." 

Mr.  Becket  laid  a  large  hand  on  David's 
knee  and  exclaimed : 

"Captain  John  is  a  sudden  and  a  funny  man. 
For  one  thing,  I  suspicion  he  was  afraid  of 
being  stranded,  and  that  I'd  offer  to  lend  him 
money  or  something  like  that.  He  is  that 
touchy  about  taking  favors  from  anybody  that 
it's  plumb  unnatural.  I'm  worried  that  he  will 
go  all  to  pieces  if  he  don't  get  afloat  again.  I 

57 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

wish  I  could  drag  him  back  here  so  as  to  look 
after  him." 

"And  how  about  Margaret?"  David  asked. 

"Oh,  she's  feelin'  fairly  chirpy,  and  she 
went  off  with  granddaddy  as  proud  and  cock 
sure  as  if  they  were  expectin'  to  be  offered 
command  of  a  liner  to-morrow." 

Despite  Mr.  Becket's  explanations,  the  flight 
of  Captain  Bracewell  remained  a  good  deal  of 
a  mystery  to  David.  He  could  not  bear  to 
think  of  them  adrift  in  New  York,  and  he 
declared  with  decision: 

"If  you  will  give  me  their  address,  I'll  look 
them  up  to-night." 

"Bless  my  stars  and  buttons,  I'll  go  along 
with  you  and  make  my  own  mind  easy,"  an 
nounced  Mr.  Becket.  "I  won't  sleep  sound 
unless  I  know  how  they're  fixed.  I'm  so  used 
to  thinkin'  of  Cap'n  John  as  fit  and  ready  to 
ride  out  any  weather,  that  I  don't  realize  he's 
so  broke  up  and  helpless.  And  I've  got  to  go 
to  sea  before  long." 

The  twisted  streets  of  old  Greenwich  village 
in  down-town  New  York  proved  to  be  a  puzzle 
to  this  pair  of  nautical  explorers,  partly  because 
58 


THE  FIRE-ROOM   GANG 

Mr.  Becket  had  so  much  confidence  in  his 
ability  to  steer  a  straight  course  to  Captain 
Bracewell's  new  quarters  that  he  positively  re 
fused  to  ask  his  bearings  of  policemen  or 
wayfarers.  After  they  had  lost  themselves 
several  times,  the  red-headed  pilot  of  the  expe 
dition  announced  with  an  air  of  certainty : 

"It's  here  or  hereabouts.  I  saw  the  name 
of  the  street  on  a  corner  sign  three  or  four  years 
ago,  and  my  memory  is  a  wonder." 

This  was  more  cheering  than  definite,  and 
David  meekly  suggested  that  he  inquire  at  the 
next  corner  store. 

"Do  you  think  I'm  scuppered  yet?"  snorted 
Mr.  Becket.  "Not  a  bit  of  it.  Bear  off  to 
starboard  at  the  next  turn." 

But  once  again  they  fetched  up  all  standing, 
and  Mr.  Becket  was  obliged  to  confess  as  he 
meditated  with  hands  in  his  pockets: 

"They've  gone  and  moved  the  street.  That's 
what  they've  done.  It's  a  trick  they  have  in 
New  York." 

"You  wait  here  and  I'll  go  back  to  the 
cigar  store  around  the  last  corner,"  volun 
teered  David. 

59 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

Mr.  Becket  was  left  to  shout  his  protests 
while  David  ran  up  the  dark  and  narrow  street. 
But  the  cigar  store  was  not  where  he  expected 
to  find  it,  and  certain  that  it  must  be  in  the 
next  block  beyond,  he  hurried  on.  Two 
crooked  streets  joined  in  the  shape  of  the 
letter  Y  at  the  second  corner,  and  the  cadet 
failed  to  notice  which  of  these  two  courses  he 
had  traversed  with  Mr.  Becket.  Without 
knowing  it,  David  began  to  head  into  a  dis 
trict  filled  with  sailors'  drinking  places  and 
cheap  eating-houses.  As  soon  as  he  was  sure 
that  the  street  was  unfamiliar  he  slowed  his 
pace,  looked  around  him,  and  not  wishing  to 
enter  a  saloon,  went  over  to  a  gaudily  placarded 
"  oyster  house." 

There  were  screens  in  front  of  the  tables, 
and  finding  no  one  behind  the  cigar-counter 
David  started  for  the  rear  of  the  room.  Three 
rough-looking  men  jumped  up  from  a  table 
littered  with  bottles,  and  one  of  them  cried  out 
with  an  oath: 

"  It's  the  very  kid  himself.    Leave  him  to  me." 

David  dodged  a  chair  that  was  flung  at  him 

like  lightning,  and  fled  for  the  street  amid  a 
60 


THE  FIRE-ROOM   GANG 

shower  of  dishes  and  bottles.  He  had  recog 
nized  the  unlovely  face  of  the  man  who  yelled 
at  him  as  that  of  one  of  the  Roanoke  firemen 
who  had  stared  at  him  from  the  pier  in  the 
morning.  He  knew  he  could  expect  no  mercy 
at  the  hands  of  these  ruffians. 

The  three  men  were  at  his  heels  as  he  blindly 
doubled  the  nearest  corner,  hoping  that  Mr. 
Becket  might  hear  his  shouts  for  help.  But 
the  silent,  shadowy  street  gave  back  only  the 
echoes  of  his  own  voice  and  the  sound  of  furi 
ous  running.  The  fugitive  had  lost  all  sense 
of  direction.  He  was  still  stiff  from  the  bruis 
ing  ordeal  of  the  Pilgrim  wreck,  and  his  legs 
felt  benumbed,  while  the  panting  firemen 
seemed  to  be  overhauling  him  inch  by  inch. 
One  of  them  whipped  out  a  revolver  and  fired. 
The  whine  of  the  bullet  past  his  head  made 
David  leap  aside,  stumble,  and  lose  ground. 
Were  there  no  policemen  in  New  York?  It 
was  beyond  belief,  thought  David,  that  a  man 
could  be  hunted  for  his  life  through  the  streets 
of  a  great  city. 

Far  away  David  heard  the  rapping  of  night 
sticks  against  the  pavement.  Help  was  coming, 

6] 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

but  it  might  be  too  late,  and  where,  oh  where, 
was  Mr.  Becket?  To  be  stamped  on,  kicked, 
and  crippled  by  the  boots  of  these  ruffians — 
this  was  how  they  fought,  David  knew,  and 
this  was  what  he  feared. 

Two  of  his  pursuers  were  lagging,  but  the 
pounding  footfalls  of  the  third  were  coming 
nearer  and  nearer.  The  street  into  which  he 
had  now  come  was  lined  with  warehouses,  their 
iron  doors  bolted,  their  windows  dark.  There 
was  no  refuge  here.  He  must  gain  the  water 
front,  whose  lights  beckoned  him  like  beacons. 
Then,  as  he  tried  to  clear  the  curb,  he  tripped 
and  fell  headlong.  He  heard  a  shout  of 
savage  joy  almost  in  his  ear,  just  before  his 
head  crashed  against  an  iron  awning  post.  A 
blinding  shower  of  stars  filled  his  eyes,  and 
David  sprawled  senseless  where  he  fell. 


62 


CHAPTER  IV 
MR.  COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

DAVID  DOWNES  stared  at  the  ceiling,  blinked 
at  the  long  windows,  and  squirmed  until  he 
saw  a  sweet-faced  woman  smiling  at  him  from 
the  doorway.  She  wore  a  blue  dress  and  white 
apron,  but  she  was  not  a  Roanoke  stewardess 
nor  was  this  place  anything  like  the  bunk- 
room  on  shipboard.  The  cadet  put  his  hands 
to  his  head  and  discovered  that  it  was  wrapped 
in  bandages.  Then  memory  began  to  come 
back,  at  first  in  scattered  bits.  He  had  been 
running  through  dark  and  empty  streets. 
Men  were  after  him.  How  many  of  his  bones 
had  they  broken?  He  raised  his  knees  very 
carefully  and  wiggled  his  toes.  He  was  sound, 
then,  except  for  his  head.  Oh,  yes,  he  had 
banged  against  something  frightfully  hard  when 
he  fell.  But  why  was  he  not  aboard  the 
Roanoke?  She  sailed  at  eight  o'clock  in  the 

63 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

morning.    He   tried   in   vain   to   sit   up,   and 
called  to  the  nurse: 

"What  time  is  it,  ma'am?    Tell  me,  quick!" 

"  Just  past  noon,  and  you  have  been  sleeping 
beautifully,"  said  she.  "The  doctor  says  you 
can  sit  up  to-morrow  and  be  out  in  three  or 
four  days  more." 

"Oh!  oh!  my  ship  has  sailed  without  me," 
groaned  David,  hiding  his  face  in  his  hands. 
"And  Captain  Thrasher  will  think  I  have  quit 
him.  He  knew  I  had  a  notion  of  staying 
ashore." 

"You  must  be  quiet  and  not  fret,"  chided  the 
nurse.  "You  got  a  nasty  bump,  that  would 
have  broken  any  ordinary  head." 

"But  didn't  you  send  word  to  the  ship?"  he 
implored.  "You  don't  know  what  it  means  to 
me." 

"You  had  not  come  to,  when  you  were 
brought  in,  foolish  boy,  and  there  were  no 
addresses  in  your  pockets." 

"But  the  captain  probably  signed  on  an 
other  cadet  to  take  my  place,  first  thing  this 
morning,"   quavered   the   patient,   "and — and 
I — I'm  adrift  and  dis — disgraced." 
64 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

The  nurse  was  called  into  the  hall  and 
presently  returned  with  the  message : 

"A  red-headed  sailor  man  insists  upon  see 
ing  you.  If  you  are  very  good  you  may  talk 
to  him  five  minutes,  but  no  more  visitors  until 
to-morrow,  understand  ? ' ' 

The  anxious  face  of  Mr.  Becket  was  framed 
in  the  doorway,  and  at  a  nod  from  the  nurse 
he  crossed  the  room  with  gingerly  tread  and 
patted  David's  cheek,  as  he  exclaimed: 

"Imagine  my  feelin's  when  I  read  about  it  in 
a  newspaper,  first  thing  this  morning.  They 
didn't  know  your  name,  but  I  figured  it  out 
quicker'n  scat.  You  must  think  I'm  the 
dickens  of  a  shipmate  in  foul  weather,  hey, 
boy?" 

"You  couldn't  help  it,  Mr.  Becket,  and  I'm 
tickled  to  death  to  see  you.  Please  tell  me 
what  happened  to  me.  I  feel  as  if  I  was  some 
body  else." 

"Well,  it  was  quick  work,  by  what  I  read," 
began  Mr.  Becket.  "And  as  close  a  shave  as 
there  ever  was.  Accordin'  to  reports,  you, 
being  a  well-dressed  and  unknown  young 
stranger,  was  rescued  from  a  gang  of  drunken 

65 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

roustabouts  by  two  policemen,  a  big  red  auto 
mobile,  and  a  prominent  citizen  whose  name 
was  withheld  at  his  request,  as  the  bright 
reporter  puts  it.  The  machine  was  coming 
under  full  power  from  a  late  ferry,  and  making 
a  short  cut  to  Broadway.  It  must  have  bowled 
around  the  corner,  close  hauled,  just  as  you 
landed  on  your  beam  ends,  and  it  scattered  the 
enemy  like  a  bum-shell.  They  never  had  a 
chance  to  see  it  coming.  The  skipper  of  the 
gasolene  liner,  he  being  the  aforesaid  promi 
nent  citizen,  hopped  out  to  pick  you  up,  and 
had  you  aboard  just  as  the  police  came  up.  So 
you  came  to  the  hospital  in  the  big  red  wagon, 
the  gentleman  taking  a  fancy  to  your  face,  as 
far  as  I  can  make  out.  And  so  you've  been 
turned  into  a  regular  mystery  that  ought  to  be 
in  a  book." 

"But  did  you  find  Captain  Bracewell?"  was 
David's  next  spoken  thought. 

"Of  course  I  did,  after  I  got  tired  waitin' 
for  you,"  and  Mr.  Becket's  tone  was  ag 
grieved.  "It  was  mistrustin'  my  judgment 
that  landed  you  in  a  hospital.  Captain  John 
and  Margaret  will  be  over  to  pay  their  respects 
66 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

as  soon  as  the  doctors  will  let  'em  pass  the 
hospital  gangway.  I  just  came  from  telling 
them  about  you." 

But  David's  mind  had  harked  back  to  his 
own  ship,  and  his  face  was  so  troubled  and 
despairing  that  Mr.  Becket  tugged  at  his  red 
mustache  and  waited  in  a  gloomy  silence. 

"I've  lost  my  ship,"  said  David  at  length. 
"Captain  Bracewell  and  I  are  on  the  beach 
together." 

"Why  didn't  I  think  to  telephone  the  dock 
as  soon  as  I  guessed  it  in  the  newspaper?" 
mourned  Mr.  Becket,  beating  his  head  with  his 
fists.  "But  Captain  Thrasher  or  some  of  'em 
aboard  will  read  it." 

"They  won't  know  it's  me,"  wailed  David. 
"All  I  can  do  now  is  to  report  to  the  dock  as 
soon  as  I  can,  but  I  am  afraid  it  will  do  no  good." 

The  boy's  distress  was  so  moving  that  Mr. 
Becket  had  to  look  out  of  the  window  to  hide 
his  own  woe.  Then  he  spun  around  and  an 
nounced  with  a  shout  that  brought  nurses  and 
orderlies  hurrying  from  the  near-by  wards: 

"I  have  it,  my  boy.  Abel  Becket's  intellect 
is  on  the  mend.  Send  old  Thrasher  a  wire- 

67 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

less,  do  you  hear?    Get  the  hospital  folks  to 
sign  it." 

With  that  Mr.  Becket  jerked  a  roll  of  bills 
from  his  waistcoat  and  demanded  a  telegraph 
blank  with  so  commanding  an  air  that  an 
orderly  rushed  for  the  office.  The  sailor-man 
and  David  put  their  heads  together  and  com 
posed  this  message  to  the  Roanoke,  which  was 
speeding  hull  down  and  under,  far  beyond 
Sandy  Hook: 

Cadet  Downes  hurt  on  shore  kave.  Unable 
report  because  senseless.  Anxious  to  rejoin  ship. 

"No,  that  doesn't  sound  right,"  objected 
David.  "He  thinks  I  have  no  sense  anyhow. 
I  can  just  hear  him  saying  that  he  isn't  in  the 
least  surprised.  Try  it  again,  Mr.  Becket." 

"Time  is  up,"  put  in  the  nurse.  ''And  I 
ought  to  have  cut  it  shorter,  with  your  friend 
bellowing  at  you  as  if  he  were  in  a  storm  at  sea." 

Mr.  Becket  looked  repentant,  as  he  whispered 
to  David: 

"Sit  tight  and  keep  your  nerve.  I'll  get  the 
wireless  off  all  shipshape.  Good-by,  and  God 
bless  you." 

68 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

The  patient  soon  fell  asleep.  It  was  late  in 
the  afternoon  when  he  awoke,  hungry  and 
refreshed.  The  nurse  informed  him: 

"A  dear  old  man  and  a  sweet  mite  of  a  girl 
called  to  ask  after  you,  and  I  told  them  to 
come  back  in  the  morning  and  they  might  see 
you.  Mr.  Cochran  had  you  put  in  this  private 
room  and  left  orders  that  you  were  to  be  made 
as  comfortable  as  possible.  So  we  will  have  to 
stretch  the  rules  a  bit,  I  suppose,  and  let  your 
friends  call  out  of  visiting  hours  to-morrow." 

David  asked  who  the  mysterious  Mr.  Cochran 
might  be,  but  he  could  learn  nothing  from  the 
nurse,  except  that  he  was  the  wealthy  gentle 
man  who  had  brought  him  to  the  hospital  in 
his  automobile.  David  tried  to  be  patient 
overnight,  and  was  mightily  cheered  by  the 
arrival  of  a  wireless  message,  which  read: 

S3.  Roanoke.    At  sea. 
Have  cadet  repaired  in  first-class  shape  to 
join  ship  next  voyage.    He  is  a  nuisance. 

Thrasher,  Master. 

The  news  that  he  still  belonged  in  the  liner 
braced  David  like  a  strong  tonic.  What  did  a 

69 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

cracked  head-piece  amount  to  now?  Being 
called  a  nuisance  only  made  him  smile.  It 
was  Captain  Thrasher's  way  of  trying  to  cover 
every  kindly  deed  he  did.  Next  forenoon  he 
was  rereading  this  message  for  something  like 
the  tenth  time  when  Captain  Bracewell  was 
shown  into  the  room.  Margaret  followed 
rather  timidly,  as  if  she  feared  to  find  her  hero 
in  fragments.  The  skipper  looked  even  older 
than  when  he  had  left  the  Roanoke,  but  the 
"little  girl"  looked  more  like  a  June  rose  than 
a  white  violet,  so  swiftly  had  her  sparkling 
color  returned.  She  had  both  her  hands 
around  one  of  David's  as  she  cried: 

"Are  you  always  going  to  get  banged  up, 
you  poor  sailor  boy  ?  And  we  were  to  blame 
for  it  again,  weren't  we?" 

"You  had  no  business  to  run  away  from 
me,"  returned  the  beaming  patient.  "The 
worst  of  it  was  that  I  almost  lost  my  own 
ship." 

These  were  thoughtless  words  said  in  fun, 
but  they  stung  Captain  Bracewell  with  remem 
brance  of  his  own  misfortune,  and  he  stood 
staring  beyond  David  with  troubled  eye. 
70 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

Margaret  was  quick  to  read  his  unhappiness, 
and  brought  him  to  himself  with  a  fluttering 
caress.  The  derelict  shipmaster  smiled,  and 
said  to  David: 

"Glad  to  find  you  doing  so  well,  boy.  You 
just  take  it  that  you  are  one  of  our  family 
while  you  are  ashore.  There  is  an  extra  room 
in  our — in  our — "  He  hesitated,  and  a  bit 
of  color  came  into  his  leathery  cheek  as  he 
finished:  "We  can  find  a  room  for  you  close 
by  us." 

"He  means  that  just  now  we  can't  afford 
to  hire  more  than  three  rooms  to  live  in," 
explained  Margaret  without  embarrassment. 
"But  it  will  be  different  when  we  get  our  ship." 

They  chatted  for  a  few  minutes  longer  and 
David  promised  to  find  a  room  as  near  them  as 
he  could,  while  he  waited  for  the  return  of  the 
Roanoke.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  they  wanted 
to  take  care  of  him,  but,  for  his  own  part,  he 
felt  a  kind  of  guardian  care  for  the  welfare  of 
the  two  "Pilgrims,"  and  he  was  very  glad  of 
the  chance  to  be  with  them  at  a  time  when 
Captain  Bracewell  was  so  pitifully  unlike  his 
reliant  self.  After  they  had  gone,  David  fell 


A  CADET  OF  THE   BLACK   STAR  LINE 

to  wondering  anew  about  this  unknown  Mr. 
Cochran  who  had  so  lavishly  befriended  him. 
It  was  enough  to  make  even  a  sound  head  ache, 
and  when  the  nurse  brought  his  dinner,  David 
begged  her: 

"If  you  don't  tell  me  something  more  about 
Mr.  Cochran,  I'll  blow  up." 

"He  telephoned  about  you  this  morning," 
she  answered,  "and  wanted  to  call,  but  you 
had  visitors  enough.  The  doctors  have  told 
him  who  you  are,  of  course,  and  he  seemed 
very  much  interested.  He  said  he  would  bring 
his  son  to  see  you  this  afternoon.  No,  not 
another  word.  What  must  you  be  when  you 
are  well  and  sound  ?  I'd  sooner  take  care  of  a 
young  cyclone." 

Some  time  later  the  motherly  nurse  came  in 
to  say,  with  an  air  of  excitement  that  she  could 
not  hide: 

"Mr.  Cochran  and  his  boy  to  see  you.  It 
is  the  great  Stanley  P.  Cochran.  I  knew 
him  from  his  pictures  in  the  newspapers  and 
magazines." 

The  portly  gentleman  with  the  bald  brow, 

gold-rimmed  glasses,  and  close-cropped  gray 

72 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

mustache  who  entered  the  room  with  quick 
step  looked  oddly  familiar  to  David.  Why, 
of  course,  he  had  seen  his  portrait  and  his 
name  as  the  head  of  a  great  Trust,  and  a 
director  in  railroads,  banks,  and  corporations  by 
the  dozen.  He  spoke  with  curt,  clean-clipped 
emphasis,  as  if  his  minutes  were  dollars : 

"  Pretty  fit  for  a  lad  that  looked  as  dead  as  a 
mackerel  when  I  picked  him  up.  Sailors  have 
no  business  ashore,  but  they  are  hard  to  kill. 
Lucky  I  was  so  late  in  getting  back  from  my 
country  place  the  other  night.  Wish  I'd  run 
over  the  scoundrels,  but  the  police  got  two  of 
them.  This  is  my  boy,  Arthur." 

The  delicate-looking  lad,  who  had  been 
hanging  back,  shook  hands  with  David  and 
smiled  with  such  an  air  of  shy  friendliness  and 
admiration  that  David  liked  him  on  the  spot. 
He  looked  to  be  a  year  or  two  younger  than 
the  strapping  cadet,  and  lacked  the  hale  and 
rugged  aspect  of  which  his  illness  had  not 
robbed  him.  Mr.  Cochran  resumed,  as  if 
expecting  no  reply: 

"I  liked  your  looks  and  there  was  no  sense 
in  waiting  for  the  confounded  ambulance.  I 

73 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

told  them  to  treat  you  right.  If  they  haven't, 
I'll  get  after  the  hospital,  doctors,  nurses,  and 
all.  When  I  found  out  that  you  were  a  cadet 
from  the  Roanoke,  my  boy  had  to  come  along. 
He  is  crazy  about  ships  and  sailors.  Reads  all 
the  sea  stories  he  can  lay  his  hands  on.  Well, 
I  must  be  off.  Arthur,  you  may  stay,  but  not 
long,  mind  you." 

Mr.  Stanley  P.  Cochran  clapped  on  his  silk 
hat  and  vanished  as  if  he  had  dropped  through 
a  trap-door.  His  son  said  to  David,  with  his 
shy  smile: 

"He  is  the  best  father  that  ever  was,  but  he 
never  has  time  to  stay  anywhere.  I  wish  you 
would  tell  me  all  about  your  scrape.  It  sounds 
terribly  interesting.  Will  it  make  your  head 
hurt?" 

The  cadet  had  forgotten  all  about  that  hard 
and  damaged  head  of  his,  and  he  plunged  into 
the  heart  of  his  adventure  without  bringing  in 
Captain  Bracewell  and  Margaret.  Their  fort 
unes  were  too  personal  and  intimate  to  be 
lugged  out  for  the  diversion  of  strangers. 
Arthur  Cochran  followed  the  flight  from  the 
sailors'  eating-house  with  the  most  breathless 
74 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

attention,  and  when  David  wound  up  with 
his  head  against  the  iron  post  and  a  ship's  fire 
man  about  to  kick  his  brains  out,  his  audience 
sighed: 

"Is  that  all?  Things  never  happen  to  me. 
I  am  not  very  strong,  you  know,  and  they  sort 
of  coddle  me,  and  trot  me  around  to  health 
resorts  like  a  set  of  china  done  up  in  cotton. 
It  makes  me  tired.  Tell  me  all  about  being  a 
cadet." 

David  fairly  ached  to  spin  the  yarn  of  the 
Pilgrim  wreck,  but  the  cruel  nurse  cut  the 
visit  short,  and  Arthur  Cochran  had  to  depart 
with  the  assurance  that  he  would  come  back 
next  day  "to  hear  the  rest  of  it." 

He  was  true  to  his  word  and  found  David  so 
much  stronger  that  the  unruly  patient  was  sit 
ting  up  in  bed  and  loudly  demanding  his 
clothes.  It  was  the  patient's  turn  to  ask 
questions  this  time,  and  he  was  eager  to  know 
all  about  the  occupations  of  a  millionaire's  son. 
The  heir  of  the  Cochran  fortune  had  to  do 
most  of  the  talking.  David  demanded  to  know 
all  about  his  automobiles,  his  horses,  and  his 
yacht,  his  trips  to  Florida  and  California,  his 

75 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

private  tutors,  and  his  several  homes  among 
which  he  flitted  to  and  fro  like  an  uneasy  bird. 
Before  they  realized  how  time  had  fled  Mr. 
Cochran  came  to  take  Arthur  home.  The 
Trust  magnate  was  in  his  usual  hurry,  and  he 
volleyed  these  commands  as  if  argument  were 
out  of  the  question: 

"I  have  looked  you  up,  Downes.  The  Black 
Star  office  speaks  very  well  of  you.  Also  the 
store  in  which  you  used  to  work.  I  sent  a 
man  out  this  morning.  My  boy  has  taken  a 
great  fancy  to  you.  He  seldom  finds  a  boy  he 
likes.  I  think  it  might  do  him  good  to  have 
you  around.  I  have  told  the  people  here  that 
you  are  to  be  moved  to  my  house  to-night. 
You  will  stay  there  until  you  feel  all  right. 
If  you  wear  well,  and  you  are  as  capable  as 
you  look,  I  shall  find  something  better  for  you 
to  do  than  this  dog's  life  at  sea.  Come  along, 
Arthur.  You  shall  see  David  this  evening." 

David's  head  was  in  a  whirl.  A  gentleman 
who  belonged  in  the  "Arabian  Nights"  was 
bent  upon  kidnapping  him.  It  seemed  as  rash 
to  question  the  orders  of  this  lordly  parent 
as  to  disobey  Captain  Thrasher,  but  there 

76 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

was  a  look  of  stubborn  resolution  in  the  sun 
tanned  jaw  of  the  young  sailor  and  he  was 
not  to  be  so  easily  driven.  He  wavered  in 
silence  for  a  minute  or  two  while  Mr.  Stanley 
P.  Cochran  eyed  him  with  rising  impatience. 
Visions  of  an  enchanted  land  of  wealth  and 
pleasure  danced  before  David's  eyes,  but  even 
more  clearly  he  saw  the  appealing  figures 
of  Captain  Bracewell  and  Margaret.  They 
needed  him  and  he  had  promised  to  go  to 
them.  He  looked  up  and  shook  his  head  as 
he  said  with  much  feeling: 

"I  don't  know  what  makes  you  so  good  to 
me,  sir.  I  never  heard  anything  like  it.  But  I 
can't  accept  your  invitation.  I  can  never  thank 
you  enough,  but  I  belong  somewhere  else." 

"You  have  no  kinfolk  here.  I  found  out 
all  that,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Cochran  with  a  very 
red  face.  "Why  can't  you  do  as  I  tell  you? 
Of  course  you  can.  Not  another  word !  Come 
along,  Arthur." 

"I  mean  it,"  cried  David.  "I  promised  to 
stay  with  friends  I  met  on  shipboard." 

He  wanted  to  tell  him  about  these  friends, 
but  the  manner  of  Mr.  Cochran  stifled  explana- 

77 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

tion.  The  magnate  was  not  used  to  such 
astonishing  rebellion,  and  it  galled  him  the 
more  because  he  felt  that  he  was  stooping  to 
do  an  uncommonly  good  deed. 

"I  seldom  urge  any  one  to  enter  my  home," 
said  he.  "Nor  will  I  waste  words  with  a  boy 
I  picked  off  the  streets;  no,  not  even  to  humor 
my  own  son's  fancies.  Yes,  or  no!" 

"No,  it  is,"  answered  David,  "but  you 
mustn't  be  angry  about  it.  You  don't  under 
stand  it  at  all.  Give  me  a  chance  to  tell  you 
why." 

Arthur  tried  to  put  in  an  anxious  plea,  but 
his  father  brushed  him  aside  with  the  gesture 
of  a  Napoleon.  "I  never  spoil  an  act  of 
charity,  Arthur,"  said  the  captain  of  indus 
try.  "The  lad  shall  stay  in  the  hospital  until 
he  is  able  to  shift  for  himself,  and  I  will  pay 
his  bills.  But  nothing  more!  He  is  ungrate 
ful  and  contrary.  Come  along,  Arthur." 

David's  wrath  had  risen  to  match  the  mood 
of  the  hot-tempered  Mr.  Stanley  P.  Cochran. 

"I  will  get  out  of  here  to-night,"  cried  the 
cadet.  "And  I'll  pay  you  back  every  cent  it 
has  cost  you  as  soon  as  I  can  save  it  out  of 

78 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

my  wages.  Good-by,  Arthur.  I  am  just  as 
grateful  as  I  can  be,  don't  forget  that." 

Arthur  had  little  time  to  express  his  surprise 
and  sorrow,  for  his  domineering  parent  was 
towing  him  down  the  hall  under  full  steam. 
David  was  left  to  puzzle  his  wits  over  his  first 
acquaintance  with  a  millionaire.  Of  one  thing 
he  was  sure.  He  must  leave  the  hospital  and 
have  done  with  Mr.  Stanley  P.  Cochran's  sin 
gular  charity  as  soon  as  ever  the  doctor  would 
let  him.  But  when  he  tried  to  rise,  his  head 
was  very  dizzy  and  his  legs  were  oddly  weak. 
To  make  his  way  alone  to  Captain  Bracewell's 
lodgings  was  a  task  beyond  his  strength  to 
attempt.  He  must  wait  another  day,  and  fret 
ting  at  the  thought  of  Mr.  Cochran's  hasty 
misjudgments,  the  cadet's  night  was  restless 
and  slightly  fevered. 

Although  Arthur  Cochran  sent  him  a  cheery 
message  by  telephone  next  morning,  it  hurt 
David  to  know  that  the  boy  had  been  forbidden 
to  visit  him  again.  He  longed  for  the  sight  of  a 
friendly  face,  and  his  joy  was  beyond  words 
when  the  flaming  thatch  of  Mr.  Becket  burst 
upon  his  sight  and  dispelled  the  gloom  like  the 

79 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK   STAR  LINE 

sun  breaking  through  a  cloud.  David  at  once 
began  to  tell  the  wonderful  tale  of  Mr.  Stanley 
P.  Cochran  before  the  seafarer  could  edge  in 
a  word.  The  listener  chewed  the  ends  of  his 
mustache  for  a  while,  and  then  his  chin  dropped 
and  his  mouth  stayed  open  in  sheerest  amaze 
ment.  Before  David  had  reached  the  climax, 
Mr.  Becket  broke  in: 

11  Mr.  Stanley  P.  Cochran  asked  you  to 
bunk  in  his  house,  to  be  mess-mates  with 
him  and  his  only  boy?  Pro-dig-io-ou-s!  I'd 
let  any  gang  of  roustabouts  knock  my  head  off, 
close  behind  the  ears,  for  a  gorgeous  chance 
like  that.  You  are  the  makin's  of  a  first-class 
sailor,  Davy,  because  you  are  so  many  kinds 
of  a  stark,  starin'  fool  ashore." 

"But  I  had  to  look  after  the  'Pilgrims,' "  pro 
tested  David. 

"You  aren't  in  shape  to  look  after  yourself, 
you  poor  idiot,"  cried  Mr.  Becket.  "You 
ought  to  see  yourself  in  the  glass,  with  your 
head  all  tied  in  a  sling.  You  look  after  any 
body?  Shucks!  You  turned  down  Mr.  Stan 
ley  P.  Cochran  ?  Why,  he  would  ha'  made  you 

for  life.    Oh,  my!    Oh,  my!" 

80 


MR.   COCHRAN'S  TEMPER 

"But  I  couldn't  feel  right  if  I  didn't  stand 
by  Captain  John  and  Margaret,  Mr.  Becket. 
I'll  never  be  happy  till  he  gets  another  ship." 

Mr.  Becket  buried  his  face  in  a  pillow  and 
appeared  to  be  wrapped  in  hopeless  dejection. 
When  his  florid  countenance  emerged  from  its 
total  eclipse  he  groaned  twice,  heaved  a  sigh 
that  fairly  shook  him,  and  glared  at  David  with 
speechless  reproach. 

"What  in  the  world  has  happened  to  you 
now?"  peevishly  quoth  the  patient.  "You 
don't  come  into  this.  And  I  haven't  done  any 
thing  to  be  sorry  for." 

"I  hadn't  ought  to  tell  you,  Davy,  and  you 
sick  in  bed,"  confessed  the  dismal  Mr.  Becket. 
"It's  rubbin'  it  in  too  hard.  Mr.  Stanley  P. 
Cochran  has  just  bought  out  the  Columbia  sugar 
refineries,  hook,  line,  and  sinker.  I  read  it  in 
the  Shipping  Gazette  last  week.  And  that  in 
cluded  the  whole  fleet  of  square-rigged  ships  that 
fetches  their  cargoes  from  the  Far  East.  He 
controls  'em  all  now,  does  Stanley  P.  Cochran." 

"You  mean  that  I  might  have  helped  to  get  a 
ship  for  Captain  John?"  David  piteously  ap 
pealed. 

81 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"Easy  as  robbin'  a  sailor,"  solemnly  answered 
Mr.  Becket.  "That  boy  of  his  can  have  any 
thing  on  earth,  up  to  a  herd  of  white  elephants, 
for  the  simple  askin'.  And  you  could  ha'  had 
anything  you  wanted  through  the  young  hope 
ful.  It  was  a  direct  act  of  Providence  that  you 
had  to  go  and  monkey  with." 

David  was  in  the  torments  of  regret.  Yes, 
Arthur  Cochran  was  just  the  kind  of  a  boy  to 
feel  an  affectionate  interest  in  the  fortunes  of 
Captain  John  and  Margaret,  once  he  had  a 
chance  to  know  them.  But  the  opportunity 
was  past  and  dead.  Mr.  Becket  looked  a  little 
less  hopeless  as  he  exclaimed: 

"  Is  it  too  late  to  patch  it  up  ?  Can't  we  charter 
a  hack  and  overhaul  Stanley  P.  and  tell  him  the 
prodigal  is  ashamed  of  the  error  of  his  ways?" 

"He  is  not  that  kind,"  said  David.  "He  will 
never  speak  to  me  again.  I  jolted  his  pride 
and  he  is  done  with  me  for  good.  Oh,  but  I 
did  try  to  do  what  was  right.  And  I've  done 
wrong  to  my  best  and  dearest  friends." 

"I  begin  to  think  you  were  born  to  trouble 
as  the  sparks  fly  upward,"  was  Mr.  Becket's 
dreary  comment. 

82 


CHAPTER  V 


MED  FOG  AND  ICE 


A  YEAR  had  passed  since  David  Downes  lay 
grieving  in  the  hospital  over  the  great  chance 
he  had  let  slip  to  help  mend  the  fortunes  of 
Captain  Bracewell  and  Margaret.  The  cadet 
no  longer  dreamed  of  giving  up  his  life's  work 
on  the  sea.  He  had  sailed  twelve  voyages  in 
the  Roanoke,  which  every  month  ploughed  her 
stately  way  across  the  Atlantic  and  return, 
through  six  thousand  miles  of  hazards.  Cadets 
had  come  and  gone.  Few  of  them  who  sought 
to  make  their  careers  in  this  way  had  the  grit 
and  patience  to  endure  the  machine-like  routine 
in  which  advancement  lay  years  and  years  ahead. 
But  David  had  begun  to  understand  the  meaning 
of  this  slow  process  by  which  his  mind  was  being 
taught  to  act  with  sure  judgment,  and  he  saw 
how  very  much  there  was  to  learn  and  suffer 
before  a  man  could  win  the  mastery  of  the  sea. 

83 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

Because  he  was  strong,  quick,  and  obedient, 
the  navigating  officers  took  a  genuine  interest 
in  his  welfare.  They  had  begun  to  teach  him 
the  uses  of  their  instruments  and  books.  He 
knew  the  language  of  the  fluttering  signal  flags 
by  day  and  the  sputtering  Coston  lights  and 
winking  lamps  by  night.  The  taffrail  log  and 
the  Thompson  sounding  machine  were  no 
longer  blind  mysteries,  and  much  of  his  leisure 
was  spent  in  the  chart  room.  The  bos'n  taught 
him  what  few  tricks  of  old-fashioned  seamanship 
were  left  to  learn  in  a  vessel  whose  spars  were 
no  more  than  cargo  derricks.  The  cadet  had 
begun  to  know  the  liner,  the  vast  and  intricate 
organization,  whose  ever-throbbing  life  ex 
tended  through  eight  stories  that  were  like  so 
many  hotels,  machine  shops,  and  factories. 
And  he  realized  what  it  must  mean  to  be  that 
calm  and  ever-ready  man  in  the  captain's 
cabin,  whose  mind  was  in  touch  with  every  one 
of  these  myriad  activities  by  night  and  day. 

Meanwhile  David  had  become  more  and 
more  fond  of  and  intimate  with  his  sea  waifs 
of  the  Pilgrim.  Every  time  the  Roanoke  wove 
her  way  back  to  New  York,  like  a  giant  shuttle 

84 


MID   FOG  AND   ICE 

plying  over  a  vast  blue  carpet,  the  cadet  was 
with  Margaret  and  her  grandfather  as  often  as 
he  was  allowed  ashore.  Captain  Bracewell 
had  not  found  the  ship  for  which  he  yearned, 
but  his  former  owners  had  given  him  a  berth 
as  stevedore  on  their  wharf,  and  in  faithful 
drudgery  he  earned  a  living  and  a  home  for 
Margaret. 

He  had  never  become  his  old  self  again. 
He  was  like  one  of  the  splendid  square-rigged 
ships  which  had  been  degraded  to  spend  its 
last  days  as  a  coal  barge.  But  he  had  learned 
to  keep  his  sorrows  and  regrets  to  himself,  and, 
gray-haired  hero  that  he  was,  lived  and  toiled 
for  the  "little  girl,"  who  was  the  one  anchor 
to  hold  him  from  drifting  on  the  lee  shore  of  a 
broken  and  useless  old  age. 

David  Downes  had  grown  very  close  to  the 
ship-master's  heart.  His  young  strength  and 
his  hope  and  pride  in  his  calling  were  like  a 
fresh  sea-breeze.  Nor  did  anything  have  quite 
as  much  power  to  kindle  Captain  Bracewell's 
emotions  as  David's  confidence  that  somehow 
and  some  day  the  message  would  come  that  a 
master  was  needed  on  the  quarter-deck  of  some 

85 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

fine  deep-water  sailing  ship.  Even  the  bos'n 
of  the  Roanoke,  to  whom  David  had  told  his 
dreams,  took  a  lively  interest  in  the  matter 
and  went  so  far  as  to  declare: 

"The  very  first  Christmas  what  I  makes  my 
fortunes  I  vill  put  a  four-masted  Yankee  ship 
in  your  stockings,  boy,  mit  stores  and  crew  ready 
for  sea,  and  this  granddaddy  of  yours  walkin'  up 
and  down  the  poop,  so?" 

When  the  Roanoke  was  ordered  into  dry-dock 
at  Southampton,  at  the  end  of  David's  first  year 
in  her,  she  missed  a  voyage  and  the  cadet  had 
to  be  content  with  letters  from  his  friends  in 
New  York.  In  the  first  packet  of  mail  was  a 
surprising  lot  of  news  from  Margaret,  which 
read  as  follows: 

DEAR  BROTHER  DAVY: 

It  is  awful  lonesome  without  you  for  seven 
whole  weeks.  Grandfather  misses  you  more 
than  he  thinks  he  lets  me  see,  and  he  is  almost 
as  fidgety  as  when  we  landed  from  the  dear  old 
Pilgrim.  Mr.  Becket  is  in  port  and  is  the 
cheerfulest  of  us  all  though  he  ought  to  be  the 
saddest.  After  being  chief  officer  in  that 
coastwise  steamer  for  three  years,  he  was  silly 
enough  to  play  a  joke  on  his  skipper  in  Charles- 
86 


MID  FOG  AND  ICE 

ton  last  week.  And,  of  course,  the  old  man 
found  it  out.  Mr.  Becket  is  a  perfect  dear, 
but  he  hasn't  much  sense  when  he  gets  one  of 
his  fits  of  the  do-funnies.  The  captain  was  in 
a  barber  shop  ashore,  getting  his  whiskers  cut 
off  for  the  summer  season.  And  Mr.  Becket 
paid  two  hackmen  to  walk  in  as  if  they  just 
happened  there,  and  begin  to  talk  to  each 
other  about  the  fire  on  the  wharves.  Of  course, 
the  captain  pricked  up  his  ears,  and  then  one 
of  the  men  said : 

"They  tell  me  it  blazed  up  just  like  an 
explosion  and  is  right  smack  alongside  the 
Chesapeake." 

That  was  Mr.  Becket's  steamer,  you  know. 
One  side  of  the  captain's  whiskers  was  off  and 
the  other  wasn't,  and  he  made  a  jump  from 
the  chair,  took  one  of  the  hackmen  by  the 
neck,  shoved  him  through  the  door,  and  threw 
him  up  on  the  box  of  his  carriage.  Then  the 
captain  hopped  inside  and  told  the  man  to 
drive  to  the  wharf  like  fury.  Of  course,  the 
hackman  had  not  expected  to  be  caught  this 
way,  but  he  had  to  go  or  else  the  captain  would 
have  broken  his  neck  for  him,  at  least  that  is 
what  he  said  he  would  do. 

And  when  they  got  to  the  wharf  the  captain 
flew  out  of  the  cab  and  down  to  his  ship.  The 
deck  was  full  of  passengers  and  they  laughed 
till  they  cried,  for  the  captain  must  have  been 
a  sight  with  only  half  his  whiskers  on.  Mr. 

87 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK   STAR  LINE 

Becket  says  they  were  a  fathom  long,  but  he 
is  a  terrible  exaggerator,  as  you  know.  Then 
the  captain  ran  back  after  the  hackman  and 
caught  him  and  scared  him  so  that  he  told  on 
Mr.  Becket.  Wasn't  it  a  shame?  Anyhow, 
he  was  a  horrid  captain  to  his  officers  and  Mr. 
Becket  says  he  is  going  to  wait  for  the  ship 
you  expect  to  build  for  grandfather  and  me. 
Write  soon  and  come  home  as  quick  as  you 
can  to 
Your  Most  Affectionate  Little  Sister, 

MARGARET. 

David  tore  open  an  envelope  that  bore  the 
marks  of  Mr.  Becket's  ponderous  fist,  hoping 
for  more  light  on  this  family  tragedy.  The 
luckless  mate  had  no  more  to  say,  however, 
than  this: 

DEAR  DAVY: 

Do  you  need  a  strong  and  willing  seaman  in 
your  gilt-edged  packet?  The  coasting  trade 
don't  agree  with  my  delicate  health.  I  have 
left  the  Chesapeake  owing  to  one  of  them  cruel 
misunderstandings  that  makes  a  sailor's  life  as 
uncertain  as  the  lilies  of  the  field  which  are 
skylarkin'  to-day  and  are  cut  down  and  per- 
isheth  to-morrow.  It  is  too  painful  to  bother 
your  tender  young  feelings  with.  Hold  on,  I 
don't  think  I  want  to  ship  with  you.  Your 
88 


MID  FOG  AND  ICE 

skipper  wears  a  fine  crop  of  tan  whiskers. 
They  would  be  sure  to  fill  me  with  sad  and 
tormentin'  memories.  All's  well,  and  they 
can't  keep  a  good  man  down.  Your  shipmate, 

ABEL  Y.  BECKET. 

David  read  the  letter  to  the  bos'n,  expect 
ing  sympathy,  but  that  hard-hearted  mariner 
laughed  boisterously,  and  said : 

"He  got  vat  was  comin'  to  him,  the  red 
headed  old  sundowner.  I  know  that  Becket 
man.  I  wish  he  shipped  as  a  seaman  mit  me. 
I  make  him  yump  mit  a  rope's  end.  He,  ho, 
ho! — the  old  man  mit  his  whiskers  carried  away 
on  the  port  side.  I  give  a  month's  wages  to 
see  him." 

David  grew  a  little  hot  at  such  callous  treat 
ment  of  a  friend  in  distress,  but  could  not  help 
smiling  as  the  bos'n  trudged  off  about  his 
work,  wagging  his  head  and  muttering: 

"Mit  his  whiskers  under  jury-rig.  The  red 
headed  old  sundowner!  He  is  a  rascal,  is  that 
Becket  man!" 

"I  am  going  to  find  out  whether  this  line 
needs  any  more  junior  officers,"  sighed  David 
to  himself.  "It  seems  as  if  all  my  family 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

is  hoodooed  about  keeping  their  berths  afloat. 
I  wish  I  was  big  enough  to  spank  Mr.  Abel  Y. 
Becket." 

A  few  days  after  this  the  Roanoke  was  ready 
for  sea  and  all  hands  resumed  their  routine 
duties.  The  liner  slid  out  into  Southampton 
Water,  and  swung  up  Channel  toward  the  North 
Sea  and  Antwerp  to  pick  up  her  passengers  and 
cargo  for  the  homeward  voyage.  Clean  and 
tuned  up  after  her  overhauling,  the  crack  ship 
of  the  Black  Star  Line  was  fit  for  a  record  run 
across  the  Atlantic. 

Nor  had  Captain  Thrasher  ever  felt  more 
pride  and  confidence  in  the  power,  speed,  and 
seaworthiness  of  the  Roanoke  than  when  he 
dropped  the  Dutch  pilot  off  Flushing  a  few 
days  later  and  signalled  "full  speed  ahead," 
with  Sandy  Hook  a  week  away  and  waiting 
wives  and  sweethearts  "hauling  on  the  tow- 
line."  Nor  were  any  of  the  passengers  who 
flocked  along  the  rail  in  cheerful  groups  more 
eager  to  get  home  to  their  own  than  the  stal 
wart  cadet  who  tramped  the  boat  deck  and 
watched  the  Channel  shipping  sweep  past  like 
a  panorama.  An  older  cadet,  with  whom  David 
90 


MID  FOG  AND  ICE 

had  formed  a  fast  sea  friendship,  listened  with 
kindly  interest  to  his  hopes  and  anxiety  that 
all  was  well  with  Captain  John  and  Margaret. 
In  David's  thoughts  the  "little  girl"  was  still 
the  helpless  child  of  the  Pilgrim,  who  needed 
the  constant  and  protecting  care  of  a  big 
brother.  Margaret  was  fourteen  now,  on  the 
threshold  of  her  fair  girlhood,  but  in  her  devo 
tion  to  David  there  was  no  sentiment,  save 
that  of  a  sister's  trusting  and  adoring  affection. 
Captain  Thrasher  had  come  to  know  these 
friends  of  David's  through  their  occasional 
visits  on  board,  when  the  ship  was  in  port, 
and  his  manner  toward  them  was  always  most 
cordial.  Now  and  then  he  unbent  a  trifle  at 
sea  and  asked  David  if  Captain  Bracewell  had 
found  another  ship.  David  was  not  frightened, 
therefore,  when  the  master  of  the  liner  beckoned 
him,  while  passing  down  from  the  bridge  to 
supper.  The  cadet  followed  the  bulky,  reso 
lute  figure  in  blue  into  the  sacred  precincts  of 
the  captain's  quarters,  and  stood  silent,  cap  in 
hand.  In  his  eyes,  Captain  Stephen  Thrasher 
was  the  most  enviable  man  alive,  far  outshining 
presidents  and  kings. 

91 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK   STAR  LINE 

Perhaps  because  he  had  been  longer  away 
from  his  home  than  usual  and  was  thinking  of 
his  own  lads  in  school,  the  masterful  captain  of 
the  liner  addressed  David  almost  as  if  he  were 
a  friend: 

"Are  you  getting  on  all  right,  my  boy?  Do 
you  peg  away  at  your  books  off  watch?" 

"Yes,  sir.  The  chief  officer  thinks  I  have  a 
turn  for  navigation.  That  is,  sir,  he  said  that 
whatever  once  got  inside  my  thick  head  was 
pretty  sure  to  stick  there." 

Captain  Thrasher  chuckled,  and  looked  the 
boy  over  from  head  to  foot  before  he  resumed : 

"How  is  that  stranded  friend  of  yours,  Cap 
tain  Bracewell  and  his  pretty  granddaughter?" 

"They  are  well,  sir,  but  Mr.  Becket  has 
lost  his — his — "  David  bit  his  tongue.  He 
had  almost  said  too  much.  The  captain  did 
not  know  Mr.  Becket  from1  a  marline-spike, 
and  his  affairs  must  not  be  dragged  in  unless 
asked  for.  But  Captain  Thrasher  showed  no 
interest  in  whatever  it  was  that  Mr.  Becket  had 
lost,  and  abruptly  ended  the  interview  with: 

"You  will  be  put  on  the  ship's  papers  as  an 

able  seaman  next  voyage.    But  you  will  berth 
92 


MID   FOG  AND   ICE 

with  the  cadets,  understand  ?  Don't  thank  me. 
You  have  earned  promotion.  That's  all.  You 
are  a  nuisance.  Get  out." 

David  saluted,  and  his  radiant  face  expressed 
his  thanks  which  the  captain  had  forbidden  him 
to  put  in  words.  Once  on  deck,  the  new- 
fledged  able  seaman  danced  a  shuffle  and 
cracked  his  heels  together.  His  wages  would 
be  doubled,  and  he  had  left  one  round  of  the 
long  ladder  behind  him.  For  the  next  three 
days  he  went  about  his  duties  in  a  kind  of 
blissful  trance,  but  he  was  none  the  less  deter 
mined  to  earn  another  step  in  promotion  hour 
by  hour,  one  task  at  a  time,  done  as  well  and 
faithfully  as  he  knew  how. 

The  voyage  which  had  begun  so  brightly  was 
fated  to  test  the  mettle,  not  only  of  David 
Downes,  but  of  every  man  of  the  ship's  com 
pany.  The  fog,  which  shut  down  on  the  third 
day  like  a  gray  curtain,  made  navigation  a 
perilous  game  of  hide  and  seek.  Captain 
Thrasher  took  his  post  on  the  bridge,  to  stay 
there  until  the  fog  should  clear.  Far  down  in 
the  clanging  engine  rooms  the  chief  engineer 
and  his  army  of  toilers  were  alert  to  respond  to 

93 


A  CADET  OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

signals  on  the  instant.  The  safety  of  thou 
sands  of  lives  and  millions  of  property  was 
in  their  keeping  also.  They  were  like  bold  and 
resourceful  pygmies  among  the  mighty  monsters 
of  clanging  steel  which  they  were  ready  to 
tame  and  check  at  the  call  from  above. 

Through  a  long  night  the  Roanoke  groped 
her  way  over  a  shrouded  sea  on  which  the  fog 
hung  so  thick  that  the  ghostly  figures  on  the 
bridge  could  not  see  the  bow  of  their  own 
ship.  It  was  no  better  when  daylight  wiped 
the  blackness  from  the  fog.  The  steamer  was 
wrapped  in  a  blind  world  in  which  there  was 
no  sound  except  the  bellowing  of  the  auto 
matic  whistle. 

David  had  seen  Captain  Thrasher  pick  his 
sure  way  through  days  and  nights  of  such 
weather  as  this,  but  now  the  master  appeared 
to  be  more  cautious  and  absorbed  in  his  great 
responsibility  than  ever  before.  Some  unusual 
strain  and  uneasiness  were  picking  at  his  nerves, 
and  his  officers  were  aware  of  it,  but  they  kept 
their  thoughts  to  themselves.  Nor  would  David 
have  guessed  the  truth  so  soon  had  not  Captain 
Thrasher  tossed  away  a  wireless  message  slip 
94 


MID  FOG  AND  ICE 

instead  of  tearing  it  up.  David  caught  it  as  it 
fluttered  past  the  wheel-house  and  began  to 
read  without  thinking  it  to  be  more  than  a 
greeting  from  some  passing  vessel.  Beneath  the 
figures  of  latitude  and  longitude  was  written: 

S.S.  Hanoverian. 

Dense  fog  clearing.  Many  large  icebergs  in 
sight  just  to  the  northward  of  us.  Most  unusual 
southerly  ice  drift  directly  in  west-bound  track. 
If  you  are  in  fog  advise  great  caution.  Please 
repeat  warning  to  any  other  vessels  behind  you. 

GREENFELT,  Master. 

David  let  the  bit  of  paper  blow  overside  and 
slipped  into  the  chart  room  to  calculate  the 
position  of  the  Hanoverian.  The  chart  showed 
him  that  she  was  a  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
west  and  considerably  to  the  southward  of  the 
Roanoke  when  the  message  was  sent.  When 
David  returned  to  the  deck  an  officer  was 
already  making  reports  of  the  temperature  of 
the  water,  and  Captain  Thrasher  was  standing 
with  head  cocked  and  a  hand  at  his  ear,  listen 
ing,  on  the  chance  that  the  clamor  of  the  fog- 
whistle  might  fling  back  a  telltale  echo  from 
some  hidden  mountain  of  ice  that  lay  in  ambush. 

95 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

Before  long  David  was  ordered  to  stand  by 
the  wireless  operator's  room  and  fetch  to  the 
bridge  any  messages  that  might  leap  from  his 
rattling,  sparking  instruments.  But  the  Roa- 
noke  was  left  to  work  out  her  fate  alone.  Even 
the  Hanoverian,  having  picked  up  her  speed 
with  clearing  weather,  had  hurried  beyond  calling 
distance  of  the  slow-creeping  Black  Star  liner. 

The  second  night  of  the  fog  stole  softly 
around  the  ship.  As  the  chill  and  dripping  air 
changed  from  pearly  gray  to  starless  gloom, 
the  hoarse  and  frequent  whistle  seemed  to  be 
appealing  for  guidance  on  this  sightless  sea. 
Bridge,  deck,  and  engine  room  were  unceas 
ingly  vigilant.  Their  first  warning  of  deadly 
peril  came  when  a  blast  from  the  whistle  was 
hurled  back  in  a  volley  of  echoes  from  some 
where  dead  ahead.  Captain  Thrasher  leaped 
to  the  engine-room  indicator  and  signalled  full 
speed  astern,  with  both  screws. 

The  Roanoke  shook  herself  as  if  her  rivets 
were  pulling  out,  as  the  engines  strove  to  hold 
her  back,  but  the  momentum  of  the  vast  bulk 
could  not  be  checked  on  the  instant.  Then 

there  came  a  far  more  violent  shock,  a  grinding 

96 


MID  FOG  AND  ICE 

roar,  and  the  sound  of  rending  steel  and  timber. 
Every  man  on  deck  was  pitched  off  his  feet. 
The  stricken  steamer  listed  heavily  to  port 
and  then  slowly  righted,  as  the  masses  of  ice 
dislodged  from  the  berg  by  the  collision  slid 
off  her  fore  deck. 

What  Captain  Thrasher  most  dreaded  had 
come  to  pass.  In  spite  of  his  utmost  care  his 
ship  had  crashed  into  the  ice  that  lay  hidden 
in  the  fog  and  night.  But  every  man  of  his 
crew  knew  that  if  his  ship  should  go  down,  he 
was  ready  to  go  down  with  her.  He  stood  on 
his  bridge  without  sign  of  alarm  or  excitement, 
shouting  swift,  clean-cut  orders.  Before  the 
steamer  had  ceased  to  grind  against  the  pale 
and  ghastly  ice  that  towered  above  her,  the 
water-tight  doors  in  the  scores  of  bulkheads 
were  being  closed  by  men  who  knew  their  sta 
tions  in  such  a  time  as  this. 

Stewards  were  hastening  among  the  cabin 
passengers  to  quiet  their  panic.  Down  in  the 
steerage  quarters  hundreds  of  hysterical  immi 
grants  were  running  to  and  fro  with  prayers  and 
screams,  but  a  squad  of  hard-fisted  seamen  soon 
herded  them  like  sheep  and  threatened  death  to 

97 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

any  who  should  try  to  force  a  way  to  the  boat 
deck.  The  chief  officer  and  the  carpenters  were 
forward  with  lanterns,  and  other  men  were  in 
the  holds  seeking  to  find  how  much  damage 
had  been  done. 

The  order  came  from  the  bridge  for  the  boat 
crews  to  stand  by,  ready  to  abandon  ship  if 
need  be.  David  took  his  station  as  he  had 
been  taught  to  do  in  the  boat  drill  of  voyage 
after  voyage.  It  was  very  hard  to  wait  in  the 
darkness,  but,  far  more  than  the  cadet  knew,  his 
year  of  training  under  the  relentless  rule  of  the 
captain's  discipline  had  been  fitting  him  for  the 
test. 

The  decks  had  begun  to  slope  downward 
toward  the  bow.  The  forward  compartments 
were  filling,  and  the  fate  of  the  Roanoke 
hung  on  the  strength  of  the  collision  bulk 
head  just  aft  of  the  wound  the  ice  had 
made.  David  heard  the  chief  officer  sing  out 
to  the  bridge: 

"She's  flooded  to  the  first  bulkhead,  sir,  but  I 
think  she  will  stay  afloat.  Will  you  come  and 
see  for  yourself?  The  whole  bow  of  her  is 

stove  in  below  the  water  line." 
98 


MID  FOG  AND  ICE 

The  Roanoke  was  slowly  moving  astern  to 
try  to  go  clear  of  the  iceberg  against  which 
the  long  swells  could  be  heard  breaking  as  on 
a  rock-bound  beach.  It  seemed  an  eternity  to 
David  before  Captain  Thrasher  returned  to  the 
bridge  and  shouted  to  an  officer: 

''Tell  the  people  below  we  are  in  no  danger 
before  daylight.  Better  put  it  stronger  than 
that.  Tell  them  we  will  make  port." 

Up  in  the  darkness  they  listened  to  the  frantic 
cheers  that  rose  from  cabins  and  steerage,  but 
the  passengers  had  not  heard  the  captain's  grim 
comment  to  himself: 

"If  it  comes  on  to  blow,  there  may  be  another 
story  to  tell." 

When  daylight  came  the  liner  made  an 
astonishing  sea  picture.  The  fog  had  lifted  a 
little  and  the  sombre  sea  was  visible  for  a  few 
lengths  away.  The  steamer's  bow  was  gone. 
In  its  place  was  a  jagged  cavern  of  twisted, 
crumpled  steel,  into  which  the  waves  washed 
and  broke  with  the  sound  of  distant  thunder. 
The  captain  dared  risk  no  more  pressure  against 
his  straining  bulkhead  which  kept  the  vessel 
afloat,  and  the  Roanoke  lay  motionless,  while 

99 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

all  hands  that  could  be  mustered  for  the  work 
were  bracing  the  inside  of  the  bulkhead  with 
timbers  and  piles  of  heavy  cargo.  There  could 
be  no  driving  the  ship  ahead  against  the  tre 
mendous  weight  of  the  sea  until  this  task  was 
done. 

The  barometer  had  risen  overnight  and  the 
liner's  chances  were  slightly  more  hopeful. 
Her  wireless  instrument  was  chattering  to  the 
world  beyond  the  sky  line  that  she  was  in  sore 
straits,  but  if  any  steamers  passed  within  unseen 
hailing  distance  they  were  not  equipped  to  talk 
through  the  air.  The  Roanoke  was  left  to  make 
the  best  of  her  plight. 

David  Downes  had  little  thought  for  the 
fears  of  the  passengers.  His  confidence  in 
Captain  Thrasher  was  supreme,  and  he  knew 
that  if  it  should  come  to  the  worst,  the  boats 
would  be  got  away  with  orderly  promptness. 
As  for  the  crew,  David  hoped  there  might  be 
room  for  him,  and  there  was  a  lump  in  his 
throat  and  his  breath  seemed  choked  when  he 
thought  of  being  left  to  struggle  and  drown,  but 
he  felt  himself  to  be  a  full-fledged  American  sea 
man,  and  he  was  proud  of  it.  Whatever  fate 

100 


MID  FOG  AND  ICE 

might  befall  Captain  Thrasher  was  good  enough 
for  him. 

David  was  musing  in  this  fashion  as  he 
hastened  with  urgent  orders  between  the  fore- 
hold  and  the  bridge.  On  one  of  these  trips  he 
found  the  captain  and  the  senior  second  officer 
poring  over  one  of  the  yellow  sheets  on  which 
the  wireless  messages  were  written. 

"Some  vessel  is  within  helping  distance," 
thought  David,  with  a  thrill  of  joy,  and  lingered, 
hoping  to  hear  the  good  news. 

Presently  the  captain  went  to  his  room,  and 
the  officer,  taking  pity  on  the  youngster's  open 
curiosity,  confided: 

"Here  is  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish.  Those 
people  are  asking  us  to  come  to  their  assistance. 
That's  the  way  it  goes.  Disasters  always  run 
in  twos  and  threes.  We  can't  make  head  or 
tail  of  the  message  except  'Help1  and  'No  hope 
of  gaining  control'  It  sounds  like  fire,  to  me." 


101 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  MISSING  BOAT 

THERE  was  nothing  to  be  done  except  to 
wait  for  another  wireless  call  for  help  from  the 
unseen  vessel  in  distress.  The  first  message 
included  some  figures  which  seemed  like  a 
frantic  attempt  to  give  the  latitude  and  longi 
tude  of  the  stranger,  but  they  were  as  puzzling 
as  the  rest  of  it. 

"That  wireless  operator  must  be  rattled, 
whoever  he  is,"  said  one  of  the  liner's  officers. 
"Maybe  his  coat-tails  are  on  fire." 

Beckoning  David  to  follow  him  to  the  chart 
room  he  added,  with  a  gesture  of  dismay: 

"Here  we  are,  and  I'm  blessed  if  his  figures 
don't  put  him  somewhere  in  the  middle  of 
Canada,  high  and  dry  on  a  mountain  range. 
As  if  we  didn't  have  troubles  enough!" 

Captain  Thrasher  was  irritable  for  the  first 
time  in  this  ill-fated  voyage  of  the  Roanoke, 
as  he  exclaimed  from  the  bridge: 

IO2 


THE  MISSING  BOAT 

"I  can't  go  in  search  of  the  confounded 
lunatic  even  if  he  is  afire.  What  right  has  he 
to  ask  help  of  me  when  my  bows  are  caved 
in  like  an  old  hat,  with  no  chance  at  all  of 
getting  under  way  before  night,  and  my  ship 
half  full  of  water?  I'm  trying  to  find  help 
myself." 

It  was  perhaps  a  half  hour  later  when  an 
other  message  came  winging  its  way  through 
space.  Captain  Thrasher  read  it  aloud,  with 
frowning  earnestness: 

Fire  spreading  aft.  Must  abandon  ship  be 
fore  long.  Lives  in  danger.  Help!  Help! 

The  figures  of  latitude  and  longitude  were 
repeated  at  the  end  of  the  message,  and 
the  previous  mistakes  corrected.  The  chart 
showed  that  the  burning  vessel  lay  about 
forty  miles  to  the  south-east  of  the  helpless 
Roanoke. 

"Why  doesn't  he  say  who  and  what  he  is?" 
growled  Captain  Thrasher.  "If  he  is  a  big 
passenger  steamer  he  is  in  a  bad  fix  and  no 
mistake.  Tell  the  operator  to  ask  him  more 
about  it,  quick.  And  tell  him  we  are  in  no 
103 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

shape  to  go  after  him.    My  own  people  have 
to  come  first." 

Captain  Thrasher  was  more  anxious  than 
surprised.  He  had  long  since  learned  that 
nothing  was  too  improbable  to  happen  at 
sea,  and  he  took  it  almost  as  a  matter  of 
course  that  collision  and  fire  should  occur  fifty 
miles  apart  in  the  same  twenty-four  hours. 
It  went  sorely  against  his  training  to  leave 
these  other  victims  of  disaster  to  shift  for 
themselves,  and  he  walked  the  bridge  with  rest 
less  tread  until  a  third  message  was  brought 
to  him.  It  read: 

Yacht  "Restless."  New  York  for  Cherbourg. 
Owner  on  board.  This  may  be  last  message. 
No  hope  of  saving  vessel.  For  God's  sake  pick 
us  up. 

"I  have  seen  that  steamer  somewhere  in 
port,"  said  Captain  Thrasher.  "She  must 
carry  a  crew  of  forty  or  fifty  men.  Well,  I 
can't  pick  'em  up  if  the  gilt-edged  owner  sends 
me  a  million  dollars  by  wireless.  Give  them 
our  position  again  and  tell  them  we  will  keep  a 
sharp  lookout  for  their  boats  till  nightfall  and 

maybe  longer." 

104 


THE  MISSING  BOAT 

As  if  in  answer  to  the  captain's  words  a  final 
call  came  from  the  Restless: 

Owner  give  you  million  dollars  to  come  at 
once.  Good-by.  Pm  off. 

"He's  a  cheerful  sport,  that  wireless  gentle 
man,"  observed  Captain  Thrasher.  "  But  I  won 
der  if  he  got  our  position.  I'm  afraid  not.  I 
pray  the  good  Lord  their  boats  got  away  in  time." 

While  the  liner  was  by  no  means  out  of 
danger,  the  situation  of  the  Restless  people  fairly 
tore  at  the  captain's  heartstrings.  He  was  not 
a  man  to  confess  himself  beaten  in  any  crisis 
without  trying  to  find  a  way  out.  He  pored 
over  the  charts,  studied  the  weather  signs, 
tugged  at  his  beard,  and  muttered  savagely  to 
himself.  But  he  did  not  decide  to  act  until 
the  fog  had  vanished  before  a  pleasant  breeze 
in  the  early  afternoon.  The  sun  came  out  and 
the  sea  danced  blue  to  the  far  horizon. 

Then  the  captain  delivered  his  orders  with 
stern  directness.  Calling  the  third  officer,  he 
said: 

"Mr.  Briggs,  you  will  take  the  number 
three  boat  and  stand  about  fifteen  miles  to 
105 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

the  sou'-east.  If  the  Restless  boats  are  heading 
for  us,  you  should  be  able  to  pick  them  up 
before  nightfall  and  show  them  the  way. 
Otherwise  they  may  miss  us.  I  shall  expect 
you  aboard  by  nine  o'clock,  at  the  latest. 
Watch  for  our  rockets." 

Mr.  Briggs  saluted,  and  mustered  his  crew. 
David  Downes  belonged  in  the  number  three 
boat,  and  Mr.  Briggs  grinned  as  the  lad  hurried 
up.  He  had  not  forgotten  the  trip  to  the 
wreck  of  the  Pilgrim.  As  the  boat  was  lowered, 
Captain  Thrasher  gazed  grimly  overside,  realiz 
ing  that  he  might  need  all  his  men  and  boats 
before  night.  But  he  had  staked  his  judgment 
on  being  able  to  keep  the  liner  afloat,  and  he 
was  ready  to  face  results  without  flinching. 

The  breeze  dimpled  the  lazy  swells  and  sail 
was  hoisted  in  the  boat.  The  men  lounged  on 
the  thwarts  while  the  stout  craft  bore  away  to 
the  southward,  and  David  fell  to  thinking  of 
that  other  rescue  during  his  first  voyage.  This 
was  like  a  summer  pleasure  cruise  with  no 
danger  in  sight.  Mr.  Briggs  at  the  tiller  took 
a  different  view,  which  was  colored  by  his 

arduous  years  at  sea. 

106 


THE  MISSING  BOAT 

"There's  nothing  as  bad  as  fire,"  said  he,  as 
if  talking  to  himself.  "A  crew  thinks  it  can 
master  it  until  it  is  too  late  to  get  away  in 
any  kind  of  shape.  I  was  in  a  bark  that  burned 
and  my  boat  was  adrift  a  week,  without  food 
or  water  to  speak  of.  We  never  thought  of 
quitting  ship  till  the  decks  blew  up  and  we  had 
to  go  overboard,  head  first." 

"This  wireless  is  like  talkin'  to  the  bloomin' 
ghosts  of  dead  men,"  muttered  an  English 
seaman.  "You  cawn't  make  me  believe  there's 
any  burnin'  vessel  out  'ere  till  I  sees  it.  We 
might  as  well  go  chasin'  a  bad  dream,  that's 
wot  it  is." 

The  crew  became  silent,  while  the  boat 
hissed  through  the  long  seas,  and  the  black 
hull  of  the  Roanoke  dropped  lower  and  lower 
behind  them.  Wireless  telegraphy  was  too 
recent  an  aid  to  sea-faring  to  seem  real  to 
these  simple  sailors;  this  was  the  first  time  its 
workings  had  touched  their  lives,  and  they 
were  not  ready  to  take  the  burning  yacht  on 
faith  unseen. 

After  three  hours  had  slid  past  Mr.  Briggs 
began  to  sweep  the  sea  with  his  glasses,  stand- 
107 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

ing  in  the  stern-sheets,  with  the  tiller  between 
his  knees.  He  had  run  down  his  fifteen  miles 
of  southing,  but  the  blue  horizon  line  was 
without  a  speck  to  mar  it. 

He  decided  to  risk  stretching  his  orders  a  bit 
by  keeping  on  his  course  for  another  hour  or 
so.  The  breeze  still  held  and  he  could  stand 
back  for  the  Roanoke  with  free  sheets  and 
oars  out.  He  knew  that  if  the  boats  of  the 
Restless  should  drift  beyond  the  steamer  lanes 
or  trans-Atlantic  routes,  days  and  even  weeks 
might  pass  without  their  being  sighted  or 
picked  up. 

The  perplexed  officer  was  on  the  point  of 
giving  up  the  search  when  his  keen  eye  caught 
sight  of  a  faint  smudge  between  sea  and  sky. 
It  looked  like  a  tiny  fragment  of  cloud,  but  it 
might  be  smoke.  He  ordered  his  men  to  their 
oars,  and  the  boat  increased  her  speed. 

"If  it  is  a  steamer's  smoke  she  may  have 
rescued  them,"  said  he;  "if  not,  it  may  be  the 
yacht,  still  afloat." 

The  ashen-colored  smudge  of  srrioke  grew  in 
size  as  they  steered  toward  it  until  it  became  a 

trailing  banner. 

108 


THE  MISSING   BOAT 

"No  funnels  could  make  all  that  mess," 
shouted  Mr.  Briggs,  as  he  flourished  his 
glasses.  "That  is  the  bonfire,  and  it  must  be 
pretty  near  the  end  of  it.  I'm  surprised  that 
she's  stayed  afloat  this  long." 

He  was  a  good  prophet,  for  while  he  stared, 
the  smoke  suddenly  spread  skyward  like  a 
huge  fan,  hung  for  a  moment,  and  then  van 
ished,  except  for  tattered  fringes  of  vapor  that 
drifted  slowly  to  leeward. 

"That's  the  end  of  her,"  cried  Mr.  Briggs. 
"She  blew  up  and  sank  with  one  big  puff.  Her 
boats  ought  to  be  sighted  before  long." 

There  was  no  more  thought  of  returning  to 
the  Roanoke  empty-handed.  The  men  rowed 
like  mad,  as  if  they  were  matched  in  a  race 
for  life,  not  realizing  that  the  smoke  had  been 
sighted  a  good  ten  miles  away.  It  was  near 
sunset  when  Mr.  Briggs  had  a  glimpse  of  a 
white  dot  far  ahead  which  he  took  to  be  a 
boat.  As  they  pulled  nearer,  he  saw  that  it 
was  a  life-raft  covered  with  men  who  were 
paddling  with  oars  and  bits  of  plank.  It  was 
easy  work  to  get  alongside  and  pass  them  a 
line  in  such  calm  weather  as  this. 
109 


A  CADET   OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

The  grimy,  blistered  men  who  cheered  as 
the  boat  prepared  to  take  them  aboard  had 
no  belongings  to  hamper  the  transfer.  Some 
of  them  were  half  naked  and  it  was  plain  to 
read  that  they  had  left  their  vessel  in  the  most 
desperate  haste,  after  fighting  fire  to  the  last 
moment.  First  over  the  gunwale  was  a  very 
stout  derelict  in  dripping  blue  trousers,  who 
puffed  like  a  porpoise  as  he  sputtered: 

"Can't  swim  a  stroke,  but  floated  like  a  cork. 
How's  that?  Me  the  owner?  Not  on  your 
life.  I'm  the  wireless  juggler  that  sent  you 
the  holler  for  help.  No  more  life  on  the  ocean 
wave  for  Willie.  I've  been  eating  smoke  and 
spitting  cinders  since  yesterday." 

While  this  undismayed  survivor  babbled  on 
as  if  his  tongue  were  hung  in  the  middle,  David 
was  trying  to  drag  from  the  raft  a  ragged  man 
who  lay  limp  and  face  downward.  The  task  was 
too  heavy  for  his  strength,  and  with  great  diffi 
culty  two  pairs  of  arms  heaved  and  lifted  until 
they  rolled  their  burden  inboard.  Without 
pausing  to  look  him  over,  David  lent  a  hand 
elsewhere  until  the  Restless  party,  twenty  strong, 
was  stowed  aboard  and  the  life-raft  cast  adrift. 

IIO 


bf 
O 


THE  MISSING   BOAT 

Most  of  them  were  able  to  sit  up  and  talk. 
The  man  who  seemed  to  be  worst  off  was  the 
first  one  who  had  been  helped  aboard  by  David. 
The  late  chief  officer  of  the  yacht  made  his  way 
toward  this  huddled  and  senseless  figure  and 
called  to  Mr.  Briggs: 

"Here's  the  owner,  all  in  a  heap.  Looks 
like  his  heart  has  gone  back  on  him,  for  he 
wasn't  in  the  water  more  than  five  minutes." 

As  he  lay  propped  against  a  thwart  the  owner's 
back  was  toward  David  at  his  oar.  The  cadet 
had  no  idea  that  he  had  ever  clapped  eyes  on 
him  before,  and  he  listened  with  eager  interest 
to  the  answers  which  the  other  men  gave  to 
Mr.  Briggs's  questions. 

"The  rest  of  us  are  in  two  boats,  some 
where  to  the  eastward,  sir,"  they  explained. 
"No,  there  was  nobody  left  on  board.  The 
way  it  was,  the  captain  and  them  others  was 
fightin'  the  fire  aft,  and  they  got  cut  off  from 
us  who  was  driven  clear  up  into  the  bows  of 
her  before  we  got  through.  She  was  just  a 
solid  blaze  amidships,  understand,  and  there 
was  no  getting  back  to  each  other.  The  other 
crowd  stood  it  as  long  as  they  could,  and  ther 
in 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

when  it  was  take  to  the  water  or  be  frizzled 
where  they  stood,  they  pitched  the  boats  over 
and  got  away.  The  fog  hadn't  begun  to  lift 
then.  They  were  going  to  lay  by  and  wait 
for  us,  but  the  blazin'  heat  below  set  her  engines 
goin'  in  a  kind  of  dying  flurry  and  she  ran  a 
while  before  she  stopped  for  good.  We  couldn't 
get  below  to  stop  her,  and  we  couldn't  go  over 
board  for  fear  of  bein'  chewed  up  by  the  screw, 
and  so  there  we  stuck  up  forward  till  we  could 
get  the  raft  over.  The  two  boats  lost  us  in 
the  fog,  and  you  know  the  rest  of  it." 

"The  owner's  boy  was  with  the  captain's 
crowd  aft.  Mr.  Cochran  put  him  in  the 
skipper's  charge  when  things  looked  desper 
ate,"  explained  the  mate  of  the  Restless. 
"When  Mr.  Cochran  got  separated  from  the 
lad  and  couldn't  get  aft  to  him,  and  saw  him 
drift  out  of  sight  in  the  fog,  he  just  threw  up 
his  hands  and  went  clean  off  his  head." 

"Mr.  Cochran!  The  owner's  boy!"  gasped 
David  Downes.  He  leaned  over  and  raised  the 
pallid  face  of  the  owner  of  the  Restless.  Yes, 
although  sadly  changed,  it  was  the  once 
pompous  and  lordly  man  of  millions  who  had 

112 


THE  MISSING  BOAT 

rescued,  befriended,  and  then  forsaken  him  in 
New  York.  And  Arthur,  the  slim,  delicate 
lad  with  the  shy,  confiding  smile  who  had 
been  so  fond  of  the  cadet — poor  lad,  he  was 
adrift  in  an  open  boat  beyond  help  from  the 
Roanoke's  boat.  David  forgot  all  the  resent 
ment  he  had  cherished  against  the  father,  as 
he  tried  to  heave  him  into  a  more  comfortable 
position  and  anxiously  searched  his  face  for 
signs  of  life. 

"He  was  a  fine  boy.  Heart  as  big  as  a  cork 
fender,"  said  a  Restless  seaman.  "God  bring 
him  safe  to  port,  say  I.  Will  we  be  after  goin* 
in  search  of  the  boats,  do  you  know?" 

Mr.  Briggs  shook  his  head  reluctantly.  He 
must  return  to  the  Roanoke  with  all  haste. 

"We  have  done  all  we  can,"  he  answered 
slowly.  "Our  own  ship  needs  us,  and  we  are 
lucky  to  have  done  this  much.  It  is  awful 
tough  on  Mr.  Cochran,  I  know,  to  leave  his 
boy  adrift,  but  we  wouldn't  have  one  chance 
in  a  million  of  finding  them  to-night." 

These  words  seemed  to  awaken  the  dulled 
understanding  of  the  father.  He  roused  from 
his  stupor  and  hoarsely  quavered: 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"Where  is  Arthur?  Leave  the  boy  adrift? 
What  did  I  hear?  What  do  you  mean? 
There's  some  mistake.  Look  for  him  till  you 
find  him,  I  tell  you.  Oh,  my  boy,  my  boy,  I 
never  meant  to  forsake  you." 

David  patted  him  on  the  shoulder  and  wiped 
the  clammy  face  with  the  sleeve  of  his  jersey. 
The  great  man  was  no  more  than  a  sodden 
lump  of  sorrowing  humanity,  crushed  and  use 
less,  and  David  wished  that  he  might  somehow 
comfort  him.  Mr.  Cochran  had  fallen  back 
speechless  and  exhausted,  and  he  did  not  come 
to  himself  again  until  the  boat  was  well  on  her 
way  toward  the  Roanoke.  His  wits  were  clear 
ing,  and  with  a  trace  of  his  old  domineering 
manner  he  addressed  Mr.  Briggs: 

''Keep  up  the  search  until  you  find  him,  my 
man.  Ten  thousand  dollars  for  you  and  your 
men  if  you  give  me  back  my  boy." 

"We  have  been  headed  the  other  way  for 
an  hour,"  replied  the  third  officer,  with  pity  in 
his  voice.  "I  am  obeying  my  orders.  That  is 
all  I  can  do." 

"What?  You  have  abandoned  the  yacht's 
boats?"  Mr.  Cochran  almost  screamed. 
114 


THE  MISSING  BOAT 

"Turn  about  with  you,  instantly.  Don't  you 
understand?  I'll  make  every  man  of  you  rich 
for  life." 

He  tried  to  struggle  to  his  feet,  but  muscular 
hands  gripped  his  heaving  shoulders  and  he  fell 
back  lamenting: 

"The  hardship  will  kill  him.  What  shall  I 
say  to  his  mother?  Oh,  what  shall  I  tell  her?" 

It  was  the  first  time  that  David  had  heard 
Arthur's  mother  mentioned.  He  felt  a  deeper 
pang  at  the  thought  of  her.  But,  alas,  Mr. 
Stanley  P.  Cochran  had  to  learn  in  this  cruel 
hour  that  his  millions  could  not  buy  a  way 
through  all  difficulties.  He  fell  to  abusing  the 
chief  engineer  of  the  Restless,  who  crouched  in 
front  of  him. 

"You  let  the  yacht  run  away  from  them,"  he 
stormed.  "Why  didn't  you  stop  your  engines, 
you  worthless,  cowardly  scoundrel?" 

The  engineer  raised  a  pair  of  hands  which 
were  raw  with  burns,  and  felt  of  his  blistered 
face.  With  unexpected  patience  he  responded : 

"I  was  the  last  man  to  come  on  deck.  I 
cooked  the  hide  off  me  to  leave  things  right 
below.  Heaven  only  knows  what  started  her 
"5 


A  CADET   OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

up  again.  There  was  no  getting  down  there 
again,  you  know  that." 

The  owner  once  more  fell  to  mourning. 

"How  can  I  show  my  face  anywhere?  I 
am  saved  and  Arthur  is  lost.  Why  couldn't  it 
have  been  the  other  way?" 

"He  was  takin'  the  lad  abroad  for  a  vacation 
trip,"  explained  a  harsh  voice  in  David's  ear. 
"The  sea  voyage  was  for  the  lad's  health,  and 
the  old  man  was  coaxed  into  pryin'  himself 
loose  from  his  business  for  once.  We're  sorry 
it  wasn't  the  swelled-up  money-grubbin'  swine 
that  went  adrift  instead  of  his  boy." 

Other  men  of  the  Restless  grunted  approval 
of  their  comrade's  verdict.  But  David  had 
glimpsed  a  new  side  of  Mr.  Cochran's  nature. 
He  would  indeed  have  sacrificed  himself  to 
save  his  son.  The  truth  of  it  was  in  his  trem 
bling  voice,  in  the  very  pose  of  his  drooping 
shoulders.  It  was  hard  to  believe  that  this 
was  the  father  who  had  fairly  dragged  his  son 
away  from  David  in  the  room  of  the  hospital 
in  New  York.  As  Mr.  Cochran  began  to  pull 
himself  out  of  his  collapse,  he  managed  to  twist 
around  so  that  he  was  looking  up  into  David's 
116 


THE  MISSING  BOAT 

face,  which  was  in  the  light  thrown  by  a  boat- 
lantern.  For  several  minutes  the  father  stared 
at  the  tanned  young  seaman,  as  if  bewildered 
and  groping  in  his  memory.  Then  he  burst 
out  with  a  kind  of  surprised  snarl: 

"It's  the  boy  that  had  no  manners  or  decency, 
the  young  cub  that  made  me  sick  of  him.  What 
are  you  doing  here,  alive  and  well,  with  my  son 
lost  and  dying  out  yonder,  lost  at  sea?  How 
can  such  things  be  ?" 

"I  helped  pick  you  up  at  any  rate,"  faltered 
David,  taken  all  aback.  "And  I'd  gladly  stay 
out  here  a  week  to  help  you  find  Arthur." 

"  You  safe  and  well!"  repeated  Mr.  Cochran, 
"and  my  Arthur  abandoned.  It's  all  a  night 
mare.  It  must  be  that." 

His  anger  veered  against  Mr.  Briggs,  and  he 
bombarded  him  with  threats,  bribes,  and  plead 
ings,  until  the  rockets  from  the  Roanoke  soared 
into  the  clear  night  and  the  yacht's  people 
shouted  at  the  welcome  sight.  Then  Mr. 
Cochran  clutched  at  a  new  hope.  He  declared 
that  he  would  buy  the  ship  if  only  he  might 
persuade  the  captain  to  search  for  the  lost  boat 
until  he  found  it. 

117 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

The  liner  was  almost  ready  to  limp  on  her 
way  when  the  boat  rejoined  her.  Repairs  had 
been  made  with  better  success  than  Captain 
Thrasher  hoped  for.  His  anxious  scrutiny 
convinced  him  that,  with  fair  weather,  his 
shattered  bow  could  withstand  the  sea,  and  he 
had  determined  to  proceed  very  slowly  on  his 
course  toward  New  York.  He  had  been  in 
wireless  communication  with  two  steamers,  one 
of  which  stood  by  until  dusk,  when  the  liner 
sent  word  that  she  would  not  transfer  her 
people.  The  captain  had  also  told  them  to 
look  out  for  the  boats  from  the  burning  yacht. 
This  news  was  carried  to  Mr.  Cochran,  who 
feebly  tottered  forward  in  breathless  haste  to 
find  the  commander.  David  saw  the  be 
draggled  magnate  swaying  against  the  door  of 
the  captain's  room  as  he  begged: 

"But  I'll  reimburse  the  company.  I  don't 
care  what  it  costs.  What  if  it  does  cost  you 
your  position  ?  I'll  pay  you  double  the  salary  to 
do  nothing  for  the  rest  of  your  life.  It's  my  only 
boy,  Captain.  Your  ship  won't  run  any  risk." 

The  voice  of  Captain  Thrasher  rose  in  re 
sponse: 

118 


THE  MISSING  BOAT 

"I  have  said  my  last  word.  Do  you  think 
I'll  stake  the  lives  of  two  thousand  people 
against  one  or  twenty  ?  Go  below  and  get  some 
rest.  I  can't  talk  to  you  to-night." 

When  David  went  aft  in  the  late  evening 
with  the  fourth  officer  to  set  the  log  over  the 
stern,  the  liner  was  vibrating  to  the  steady 
thrust  of  her  engines,  and  her  broad  wake 
foamed  white  in  the  starlit  darkness.  Against 
the  rail  beside  them  leaned  a  portly  man,  his 
face  hidden  in  the  shadows.  He  was  gazing 
toward  the  southward  over  the  ocean  which 
rolled  away  in  mystery,  vast  and  obscure. 

David  answered,  "Ay,  ay,  sir,"  in  reply  to 
an  order,  and  the  man  at  the  rail  turned  at 
sound  of  the  lad's  voice.  As  the  mate  raised 
his  lantern  to  read  the  log-dial,  Mr.  Cochran 
exclaimed: 

"It's  you  again,  is  it?  I  am  sorry  I  spoke 
to  you  as  I  did  to-day.  I  am  grateful  for  your 
part  in  saving  me  and  my  men,  and  I  was  out 
of  my  head,  I  guess." 

This  strangely  softened  mood  was  new  to 
David,  but  his  sympathetic  heart  was  quick  to 

meet  it,  and  to  let  bygones  be  bygones. 
119 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"I  wish  I  could  help  you,  sir,"  he  returned. 
"But  I  am  just  chockfull  of  hope  that  we  will 
hear  from  Arthur.  He  may  be  picked  up  before 
we  are  landed.  We'll  have  him  back  again. 
You  can  bet  your  life  on  that." 

The  father  gazed  again  across  the  darkened 
sea.  He  was  leaving  his  only  son  behind  him, 
and  all  the  pride  of  wealth  and  self  and  power 
had  been  stripped  from  him.  All  he  could 
think  of  to  say  as  he  shook  hands  with  David 
was: 

"Arthur  was  very  fond  of  you,  and  I  am 
sorry  that  I  came  between  you  two." 


190 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  BONDS  OF  SYMPATHY 

THE  Black  Star  Line  wharf  in  North  River 
was  crowded  with  cheering  men,  women,  and 
children.  Their  fluttering  handkerchiefs  looked 
like  a  sudden  flurry  of  snow.  The  roar  of 
steam  whistles  from  a  hundred  harbor  craft 
rose  above  the  din  on  the  wharf.  Past  the 
Battery  was  creeping  a  sea-stained  liner,  her 
great  steel  prow  so  crushed  and  battered  that 
the  thousands  who  watched  her  wondered  how 
she  could  have  been  kept  afloat.  The  news 
of  her  coming  had  been  sent  by  wireless,  and  a 
fleet  of  the  company's  tugs  had  hurried  to  sea 
to  meet  her. 

The  kinfolk  and  friends  of  those  on  board 
had  been  kept  in  a  state  of  panicky  alarm,  day 
after  day,  by  the  flaring  newspaper  head-lines 
which  sent  the  Roanoke  to  the  bottom  and 
raised  her  again,  in  hourly  "extras." 

121 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

The  band  on  the  promenade  deck  was  lustily 
playing  "home  again,  home  again,  from  a 
foreign  shore,"  as  the  tugs  poked  their  noses 
against  the  black  side  of  the  ocean  cripple  and 
began  to  nudge  her  into  her  berth.  David 
Downes  was  looking  for  friends  on  the  wharf, 
but  he  scanned  the  masses  of  upturned  faces 
in  vain,  until  the  bos'n  prodded  him  in  the 
ribs,  and  said: 

"Cast  your  eye  on  the  end  of  the  pier,  boy. 
I  see  a  red  spot.  It  vas  Becket  or  else  there  is 
a  fire  just  broke  out.  Nobody  has  as  red 
headed  a  head  as  that  crazy  feller." 

Sure  enough,  there  was  Mr.  Becket,  waving 
his  arms  like  a  wild  man;  beside  him  was  the 
tall  figure  of  Captain  Bracewell;  and  between 
them  a  slip  of  a  girl  was  dancing  up  and  down 
in  her  efforts  to  get  a  clear  view  of  the  ship. 
David's  eyes  filled  as  he  swung  his  cap  above 
his  head.  There  were  his  "dearest  folks,"  as 
he  called  them,  and  he  was  as  rich  in  welcomes 
as  any  of  the  passengers  who  were  making  so 
much  joyful  noise  along  the  decks  below. 
Bless  them,  what  news  had  they?  Was  Mr. 
Becket  still  stranded,  and  was  there  any  hope 

122 


THE   BONDS   OF  SYMPATHY 

of  a  ship  for  Captain  John?  The  long  voyage 
of  disaster  and  adventure  seemed  like  a  dream. 
David  Downes,  able  seaman,  was  come  back  to 
his  own. 

The  gangways  were  lowered,  and  the  pas 
sengers  streamed  ashore,  telling  their  stories  at 
the  top  of  their  voices,  as  they  flew  into  the  arms 
of  their  friends.  David  went  below  to  find  Mr. 
Cochran,  who  had  found  no  joy  in  this  home 
coming  and  deliverance  from  the  sea.  He  was 
hanging  back  to  let  the  crowd  pass  ashore,  and 
he  looked  very  forlorn  and  lonely.  Gentlemen 
high  in  the  world  of  finance,  and  managers  of 
his  great  interests  had  flocked  aboard  to  greet 
him  and  to  offer  their  aid  and  sympathy.  But 
he  had  begged  to  be  left  alone,  and,  oddly 
enough,  his  heavy  face  lighted  for  the  first  time 
when  David  found  him.  They  had  seen  little 
of  each  other  since  the  Roanoke  resumed  her 
voyage.  David  had  been  doing  a  double  trick 
of  duty,  and  the  millionaire  was  so  racked  in 
body  and  mind  that  he  was  seldom  on  deck. 
But  in  their  few  meetings  Mr.  Cochran  had 
been  almost  pathetically  friendly  of  manner,  as 

if  he  were  trying  to  make  amends  because  of 
123 


A  CADET   OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

his  boy's  fondness  for  the  sailor  lad.  Now 
when  the  parting  hour  came  Mr.  Cochran 
seemed  genuinely  affected.  His  wonted  abrupt 
ness  of  speech  had  been  assumed  again,  and  he 
carried  himself  with  an  air  of  frowning  dignity, 
but  he  took  one  of  David's  hard  hands  between 
both  his  own  as  he  said : 

"He  talked  a  great  deal  about  you,  and  you 
must  come  and  see  me  and  talk  to  me  about 
him.  You  won't  refuse  this  time,  will  you? 
His — his  mother  will  be  delighted  to  see  you." 

David  made  haste  to  reply: 

"Of  course  I  will  and  thank  you,  sir.  And 
you  will  send  me  any  news  of  Arthur  as  quick 
as  you  can,  please  promise  me  that." 

Mr.  Cochran  nodded,  and  David  hesitated, 
as  if  he  had  something  else  on  his  mind.  He 
was  thinking  that  it  might  do  Mr.  Cochran 
good  to  know  his  "dearest  folks"  in  such  a 
time  as  this,  but  he  dared  stay  away  no  longer 
from  the  crowded  gangway,  so  he  said  good-by 
to  the  man  whose  path  had  so  strangely  crossed 
his  own  again. 

Soon  there  appeared  on  the  landing  stage  the 
brilliant  beacon  of  hair  which  topped  the 
124 


THE  BONDS  OF  SYMPATHY 

robust  Mr.  Becket  as  he  skilfully  piloted  Mar 
garet  through  the  confusion.  It  was  hard  work 
for  David  to  keep  from  rushing  to  meet  them 
half-way,  but  he  remembered  the  discipline 
expected  of  an  able  seaman.  Mr.  Becket  was 
first  to  reach  him,  and  he  proceeded  to  thump 
David's  chest  and  pound  his  back  with  the 
exhortation : 

"All  sound  and  fit  for  duty?  The  collision 
didn't  stave  you  in  anywheres?" 

Margaret  was  able  to  greet  her  "big  brother" 
only  by  shoving  Mr.  Becket  out  of  the  way 
with  all  her  might. 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself, 
abusing  David  as  if  you  weren't  a  bit  glad  to 
see  him,"  she  cried.  "Oh,  but  we  are  glad  to 
see  you,  and  are  you  all  right,  and  are  you 
coming  home  to  supper  with  us?  I  don't 
believe  I've  slept  a  wink  this  week,  have  I, 
grandfather?" 

Captain  John  was  meekly  waiting  for  a 
chance  to  make  his  presence  known.  He 
clapped  his  hands  on  David's  shoulders  and 
his  honest  eyes  glowed  with  pride  and  affection 
as  he  exclaimed: 

125 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"We  feel  quite  set  up  that  you  belong  to  us, 
Davy.  Here  you  go  picking  up  more  mariners 
in  distress.  We've  heard  all  about  it." 

"We  can  talk  it  all  over  to-night,"  said 
David,  shaking  hands  all  round  again.  "I 
am  on  watch  now  and  I  mustn't  neglect  my 
duty  even  for  you." 

His  boyish  manner  was  so  very  serious  that 
Mr.  Becket  went  off  into  a  series  of  explosive 
chuckles,  from  which  he  was  diverted  by  the 
appearance  of  the  bos'n  who  declared  in  the 
most  threatening  voice: 

"The  red-headed  loafer  again?  I  vill  pro 
tect  my  whiskers  mit  my  life.  Get  ashore  mit 
you,  you  terrible  Becket  man,  or  I  vill  vash 
you  down  mit  the  fire-hose." 

Mr.  Becket  was  not  in  the  least  alarmed, 
and  after  a  harmless  exchange  of  blood-thirsty 
threats,  he  followed  Captain  John  and  Mar 
garet  down  the  gangway. 

Later  in  the  day  the  chief  officer  told  David 
that  as  soon  as  her  cargo  was  discharged,  the 
Roanoke  would  go  to  Philadelphia  for  tem 
porary  repairs,  which  might  take  a  month  or 
more.  The  captain  had  left  word  that  David 
126 


THE  BONDS  OF  SYMPATHY 

could  have  a  week's  shore  leave  and  then  rejoin 
the  ship  at  Philadelphia.  The  news  sounded 
too  good  to  be  true,  and  as  soon  as  he  was 
relieved  from  duty,  David  fairly  ran  ashore 
with  a  canvas  bag  of  clothes  under  his  arm. 
He  made  all  speed  to  the  tiny  flat  in  which 
Margaret  was  keeping  house  for  Captain  John. 
Mr.  Becket  had  been  invited  for  supper,  and  he 
was  boiling  with  eagerness  to  ask  David  a 
question  which  had  been  disturbing  him  all 
day  long. 

"Did  you  say  anything  to  Mr.  Stanley  P. 
Cochran  about  vessels?  You  know  what  I 
mean.  I  didn't  say  a  word  to  Captain  John, 
for  I  don't  want  to  get  him  stirred  up  with 
false  alarms." 

They  had  met  in  the  outer  hall,  and  Mr. 
Becket  softly  closed  the  door  behind  him,  for 
his  stage-whispers  carried  far. 

"Of  course  I  didn't,"  responded  David, 
"with  his  boy  adrift  and  his  heart  broken  clean 
in  two.  It  was  a  silly  notion  of  yours  to  begin 
with." 

"Well,    you    needn't    bite    my    head    off," 

growled  Mr.  Becket,  as  they  shouldered  their 
127 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

way  into  the  tiny  living  room.    Margaret  called 
blithely  from  the  birdcage  of  a  kitchen. 

"Do  keep  Mr.  Becket  away  from  here,  Davy. 
Every  time  he  turns  around  or  takes  a  long 
breath,  he  breaks  a  dish  or  upsets  something. 
He  ought  to  live  out-doors." 

Captain  John  was  beaming  a  welcome  as  he 
hauled  David  by  the  collar  to  a  seat  on  the 
sofa  beside  him,  and  declared: 

"You'd  be  a  mate  next  year  if  you  had 
chosen  sail  instead  of  steam,  you  strapping 
big  lump  of  a  lad.  You  are  the  kind  of 
Yankee  sailor  they  used  to  breed  in  my  early 
days  at  sea.  How  many  years  more  do  you 
serve  in  your  old  machine  shop  before  you 
get  your  papers?" 

"Three  or  four,"  cheerfully  replied  David. 
"And  even  then  I  won't  be  fit  to  be  left 
in  charge  of  the  ship  for  a  minute.  A 
fourth  officer  is  mighty  small  potatoes  in  my 
trade." 

"I  was  master  of  a  deep-water  ship  when  I 
was  twenty-one,"   said   Captain   John.     "Ah, 
those  days  are  gone.    Tell  us  all  about  this 
boy  that  was  lost  with  the  yacht." 
128 


THE   BONDS  OF  SYMPATHY 

"He  isn't  lost,"  stoutly  returned  David. 
"With  good  weather  they  will  be  picked  up. 
I'm  sure  of  it." 

"The  sea  is  very  cruel,  Davy,"  murmured 
the  skipper,  and  his  face  clouded  with  sad 
memories  of  his  boy  lost  with  Margaret's 
mother.  The  "little  girl"  peered  anxiously 
from  the  kitchen  door  and  tried  to  shift  the 
topic  to  happier  themes: 

"Just  think  what  Davy's  been  through  all  in 
one  year,  and  he  lives  to  tell  it,  so  let's  enjoy 
him  while  we  can.  We  mustn't  even  mention 
the  whiskers  of  Mr.  Becket's  skipper  and  his 
awful  tale  of  woe." 

"There's  a  master  wanted  in  a  Jamaica 
fruiter,"  observed  Mr.  Becket.  "But  my  old 
skipper  is  trying  to  do  me  with  the  owners. 
However,  they  can't  keep  a  good  man  down, 
and  you  will  stand  by  your  friends,  blow  high, 
blow  low,  won't  you,  Davy  ?  " 

Supper  was  on  the  table  ancf  Margaret  waited 
on  her  hungry  crew  with  pretty  anxiety  to  play 
well  her  part  in  this  festal  reunion.  She  con 
sented  to  sit  down  with  them  when  it  came  to 
serving  the  apple  pie  which  she  herself  had 
129 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

made.  Mr.  Becket  demanded  Captain  John's 
old-fashioned  quadrant  with  which  to  measure 
off  the  exact  number  of  degrees  of  pie  each 
was  entitled  to,  and  nearly  upset  the  table  before 
this  mathematical  problem  was  adjusted.  In 
the  midst  of  the  excitement  the  door-bell  buzzed. 
Mr.  Becket  sprang  to  the  speaking-tube  as  if 
he  were  in  a  wheel-house  and  shouted : 

"  Below  there.    What's  wanted  ?  " 

While  he  cocked  his  head  to  listen,  his  face 
began  to  express  the  most  intense  amazement, 
and  his  reply  was  absurdly  meek,  as  he  cried : 

"Yes,  sir.  Very  good,  sir.  The  dickens  it 
is.  Two  flights  up,  and  don't  break  your 
precious  neck  on  the  dark  landings,  sir." 

Turning  to  the  puzzled  listeners,  Mr.  Becket 
explained  in  a  flurried  tone: 

"It  is  Mr.  Stanley  P.  Cochran,  no  less,  and 
none  other.  Now  what  do  you  think  of  that  ?" 

Margaret  whisked  off  her  apron  and  began 
to  clear  away  the  dishes,  pie  and  all,  but  Cap 
tain  John  stopped  her  with: 

"Stay  as  you  are,  girlie.    Nobody's  ashamed 
of  sitting  down  to  a  square  meal.     Mr.  Cochran 
is  just  a  poor,  grieving  daddy,  that's  all." 
130 


THE   BONDS   OF  SYMPATHY 

"Oh,  maybe  he  has  good  news  for  Davy," 
cried  Margaret.  "You  run  out  and  meet  him, 
David." 

Mr.  Cochran  entered  the  door  a  moment 
later,  with  the  air  of  an  intruder.  He  hesi 
tated  in  the  doorway  of  the  crowded  little  room 
and  fumbled  with  his  hat. 

"Plenty  of  room  at  the  table,"  said  Captain 
John,  rising  and  holding  out  his  hand. 
"Becket,  you  hang  yourself  out  on  the  fire- 
escape  and  make  room  for  Mr.  Cochran.  Mar 
garet,  a  plate  and  another  cup  of  coffee." 

"These  are  my  best  friends,  Mr.  Coch 
ran,"  put  in  David,  presenting  them  by  name. 
"We  have  sort  of  adopted  each  other  all 
round." 

Mr.  Cochran  sank  into  a  chair,  while  Mar 
garet  timidly  asked  him: 

"Will  you  have  a  piece  of  my  apple  pie,  sir? 
These  sailor  men  seem  to  like  it." 

"It  is  simply  grand,"  rumbled  Mr.  Becket 
from  the  window. 

The  visitor  looked  about  him.  Something 
in  the  homely  cheer  and  affection  of  this 
atmosphere  seemed  to  touch  his  emotions.  His 


A  CADET  OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

eyes  were  moist  and  his  voice  was  not  quite 
steady  as  he  thanked  Margaret  and  then  said 
to  David: 

"You  are  lucky  to  have  such  friends,  and 
they  have  made  no  mistake  in  you.  I  went 
down  to  the  ship  to  find  you  and  the  bos'n 
sent  me  here.  I — I  was  asked  to  come, 
and " 

He  hesitated,  bit  his  lip,  and  waited,  as  if 
trying  to  keep  his  voice  under  better  control. 

"Is  there  any  news?"  asked  David. 

"Not  yet.  But  his  mother  wants  you  to 
come  up  and  see  her  this  evening.  She  asked 
me  to  find  you.  Of  course  I  came.  It  seems 
that  our  boy  took  it  more  to  heart  than  I  had 
any  idea  of — when  I  disappointed  him  about 
your  coming  to  visit  him  last  year.  He  told 
his  mother — but  he  didn't  say  very  much  to 
me.  And  he  has  had  so  few  boy  friends." 

It  was  pitiful  to  hear  this  pleading,  remorseful 
speech  from  such  a  man  as  Stanley  P.  Cochran 
had  always  been.  Captain  John's  kindly  face 
was  twitching,  while  he  murmured,  as  if  talking 
to  himself: 

"I  once  had  an  only  son." 
132 


THE   BONDS  OF  SYMPATHY 

"Of  course  I'll  go  with  you,"  said  David,  as 
he  rose  from  the  table.  "You  will  excuse  me, 
won't  you,  folks?" 

There  was  so  much  hearty  sympathy  in  their 
response  that  Mr.  Cochran  smiled  a  little  wist 
fully,  as  if  he  wished  to  stay  longer  in  this  sim 
ple,  genuine  circle  of  friends.  They  were  not 
awed  by  his  name,  they  did  not  cringe  before 
his  wealth,  and  they  seemed  to  have  found  the 
secret  of  contentment,  in  what,  to  him,  seemed 
like  dire  poverty.  He  could  pour  out  his  heart 
about  his  boy  to  people  like  these,  and  they 
would  understand. 

"I  hate  to  take  you  away,"  he  said  at  length. 
"But  his  mother  will  be  waiting  for  us." 

"Don't  you  stay  here  a  minute  longer, 
Davy,"  urged  Margaret.  "And  be  just  as 
cheerful  as  you  can.  We  are  all  praying  for 
your  son,  Mr.  Cochran,  and  we  know  that  he 
will  come  back  to  you." 

The  millionaire  wavered  and  picked  up  the 
cup  of  coffee  with  a  sheepish  air. 

"I  haven't  eaten  a  bite  to-day,"  said  he. 
"But  the  smell  of  things  here  makes  me  hungry, 
I  really  believe." 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"A  bit  of  that  chicken  salad,  and  a  chop, 
and  a  section  of  our  peerless  apple  pie  will 
make  a  new  man  of  you,"  spoke  up  the  half- 
hidden  Mr.  Becket,  who  was  feeling  more 
at  ease.  The  guest  seemed  grateful  for  this 
sound  advice,  and  appeared  to  relish  his  hasty 
meal.  Before  he  finished  he  said,  not  at  all 
as  if  he  were  doing  a  favor,  but  as  one  friend 
to  another: 

"Captain  Bracewell,  I  wish  you  and  your 
charming  granddaughter  and  Mr.  Becket  and 
David  Downes  would  do  me  the  pleasure  of 
dining  at  my  house  some  night  this  week. 
Arthur's  mother  and  I  find  it  very  lonesome, 
and  it  will  help  to  keep  her  from  brooding." 

Captain  John  was  too  used  to  being  a  master 
among  men  to  be  at  all  agitated  by  this  unex 
pected  invitation,  but  Margaret  fluttered  be 
tween  dining-room  and  kitchen  in  much  excite 
ment.  Mr.  Becket  was  stricken  dumb  and 
could  only  make  signals  of  distress. 

"I  will  answer  for  us  all,"  returned  Captain 
John.  "If  it  will  cheer  up  you  and  your  wife 
to  see  us  plain  seafaring  folks,  we  will  accept, 
with  hearty  thanks." 


THE  BONDS  OF  SYMPATHY 

Mr.  Cochran  expressed  his  gratitude,  as  if 
they  were  doing  him  a  kindness,  and  de 
parted,  with  David  in  his  wake.  As  these 
two  rolled  up  town  in  the  millionaire's  iRito- 
mobile,  Mr.  Cochran  observed,  after  a  long 
silence: 

"I  like  those  friends  of  yours.  I  wish  I 
could  have  known  them  before.  Arthur  would 
enjoy  them." 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  David's  tongue  to  tell 
him  that  these  were  the  people  whom  he  had 
preferred  to  see  on  that  day  a  year  ago  when 
Mr.  Cochran  had  flown  into  a  rage  and  cast 
him  off.  But  this  was  no  time  to  recall  old 
misunderstandings.  All  David  could  do  was 
to  wait  in  patience,  and  hope  that  Mr.  Cochran 
might  discover  what  a  splendid  man  Captain 
John  was,  and  take  an  interest  in  him  on  his 
own  account. 

The  automobile  halted  in  front  of  a  huge 
stone  mansion  in  upper  Fifth  Avenue.  It  looked 
more  like  a  castle  than  a  home.  The  immense 
tapestry-hung  parlors,  past  which  David  was 
led,  were  silent  and  cheerless.  Captain  John's 
flat  was  far  more  cheery  and  livable  than  these 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

gloomy  apartments,  thought  David,  as  he  fol 
lowed  his  host  up  the  echoing  marble  stair 
case  to  the  second  story. 

Presently  they  came  to  a  smaller  room  which 
looked  as  if  people  really  lived  in  it.  A  slender 
woman  in  black  rose  from  a  divan  to  greet 
them.  In  her  smile  there  was  the  timid, 
tremulous  sweetness  which  had  made  her  boy 
so  attractive  to  David  on  first  acquaintance. 
There  could  have  been  little  in  common  be 
tween  her  and  the  hard,  domineering  father 
until  a  great  grief  bridged  the  gulf  that  had 
grown  between  them.  Even  now,  she  looked 
at  Mr.  Cochran  with  an  appealing  glance,  as  if 
waiting  for  him  to  speak.  David  wanted  to 
pick  her  up  in  his  strong  young  arms  and  com 
fort  her. 

"So  this  is  the  boy  that  Arthur  said  he  wished 
he  could  be  like,"  were  her  first  words,  as  she 
looked  up  at  David's  brown  face  and  well-set 
shoulders.  "Why,  you  are  not  a  boy.  You 
are  a  man." 

"I've  grown  a  lot  in  the  last  year,  and  sea 
life  agrees  with  me,"  laughed  David,  with  a 
blush  at  her  frank  admiration. 
136 


THE  BONDS  OF  SYMPATHY 

"That  is  what  the  doctors  told  Mr.  Cochran 
when  he  planned  the  trip  abroad  for  Arthur, 
in  the  yacht,"  sighed  the  mother.  "He  did  not 
ask  me  to  go,  because  I  am  such  a  wretched 
sailor,  I  suppose.  I  expected  to  join  them 
later  in  the  south  of  France." 

"It  is  a  good  deal  better  for  a  man's  health 
when  he  has  to  work  his  way,"  explained 
David.  "Sitting  under  a  yacht's  awning  all 
day  isn't  a  bit  like  having  your  regular  watches 
to  stand  in  all  weathers.  When  Arthur  comes 
home  you  will  find  him  fit  as  a  fiddle.  Being 
adrift  for  a  few  days  will  do  him  good." 

"How  awful!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cochran, 
nervously  clasping  her  hands.  "Why  I  have 
done  almost  nothing  except  carry  out  the  doc 
tors'  orders  for  his  health  since  he  was  a  baby." 

"That  may  be  partly  the  trouble,  mother," 
remarked  Mr.  Cochran.  "I'd  give  half  I  own 
to  see  him  looking  like  this  big  lad  here.  I 
met  some  of  his  friends  to-night.  They  are 
coming  up  to  see  you  soon.  You  can't  help 
liking  them.  They  are  the  kind  we  used  to 
know  down  East,  ages  and  ages  ago,  'when  we 
were  so  happy  and  so  poor.' " 
137 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"If  they  are  anything  like  David  Downes,  I 
know  I  shall  be  fond  of  them,"  smiled  the 
mother. 

Then  she  fell  to  telling  David  all  about 
Arthur's  boyhood,  and  her  fond  interest  in 
every  detail  of  her  son's  affairs  found  such  a 
ready  and  warm-hearted  listener  that  Mr. 
Cochran  stole  away,  and  left  them  sitting  side 
by  side  on  the  divan.  Little  by  little  David's 
confidence  in  Arthur's  safety  began  to  reassure 
the  tormented  mother.  The  sailor  talked  to 
her  of  the  sea  with  a  knowledge  born  of  his 
experience  and  of  the  bright  hopefulness  of 
youth.  Quite  naturally  he  drifted  into  telling 
her  about  the  wreck  of  the  Pilgrim,  to  show 
how  there  was  chance  of  escape  in  the  most 
desperate  disaster.  Her  mother's  heart  was 
drawn  to  the  picture  of  Margaret,  as  David 
painted  it,  in  words  of  loving  loyalty  and 
admiration. 

"You  are  like  a  fresh  breeze  blowing  from  a 
big,  fine,  wholesome  world  that  we  seem  to 
have  been  shut  off  from,"  she  cried,  as  she 
looked  at  him  with  affectionate  eyes.  "I  do 
believe  that  Arthur  will  be  brought  home  to  us." 
138 


THE  BONDS   OF   SYMPATHY 

They  heard  a  telephone  bell  ring  in  another 
room.  The  mother's  face  became  white  and 
tense,  and  she  grasped  David's  hand  and  held 
it  fast.  There  might  be  some  tidings.  After 
minutes  that  seemed  like  hours  Mr.  Cochran 
entered  the  room  with  dragging  step  and  bowed 
shoulders.  He  spoke  very  slowly,  as  if  re 
luctant  to  repeat  the  message  which  had  come 
to  him. 

"It  was  a  telegram,  mother,"  said  he.  "One 
of  the  Restless  boats  was  picked  up  at  sea — 
empty.  A  Cunarder  reported  it  by  wireless." 

Mrs.  Cochran  swayed  against  David,  who 
pulled  himself  together,  and  his  voice  rang 
out  with  vibrant  conviction : 

"It  doesn't  mean  what  you  think  it  does. 
Ten  to  one  some  vessel  picked  them  up  and 
cast  the  boat  adrift.  And  the  chances  are 
still  even  that  Arthur  was  in  the  other  boat. 
Now  is  the  time  to  sit  tight  and  hold  your 
nerve." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

A  WEARY  week  passed,  without  tidings  of  the 
castaways  of  the  Restless.  Arthur  Cochran's 
mother  lost  heart,  and  refused  to  be  comforted. 
She  seemed  to  be  letting  go  her  hold  on  life, 
and  her  husband,  as  if  seeking  to  atone  for  the 
years  in  which  he  had  allowed  his  worldly 
interests  to  absorb  his  time  and  thought,  was 
seldom  away  from  her.  His  devotion  was 
tender  and  whole-hearted.  The  visit  of  the 
Bracewell  household  had  been  postponed. 
Mrs.  Cochran  was  too  ill  to  leave  her  room, 
and  even  David  had  to  be  denied  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  her  again,  much  as  she  longed  to 
talk  to  him  about  her  beloved  son. 

The  week  of  shore  leave  ended  and  David 
said  good-by  to  his  "dearest  folks"  in  the 
tiny  flat  and  posted  off  to  Philadelphia  to 

report  on  board  the  Roanoke.    He  was  glad, 
140 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

too,  beyond  measure,  to  learn  that  Captain 
Thrasher  had  been  cleared  of  all  blame  for  the 
collision,  and  would  stay  in  his  command. 

"It  was  vat  you  call  a  tight  squeak,"  explained 
David's  faithful  shipmate,  the  bos'n.  "They 
tells  me  the  Board  asks  the  old  man  why  don't 
he  get  out  and  push  the  iceberg  to  one  side, 
or  some  such  foolishness.  But  he  proves  he 
was  usin'  all  proper  care,  and  they  can't  give 
him  the  sack,  eh?  Mr.  Cochran,  the  money 
bags  vat  we  picked  up,  he  vas  very  mad  mit 
our  old  man  at  first,  but  he  cool  down  by  and 
by  and  see  vat  a  idiot  he  vas.  And  he  gets 
some  gratitude  under  his  belt,  and  puts  in  a 
word  for  the  old  man,  I  t'ink.  Stanley  P. 
Cochran  is  very  strong  mit  the  company.  He 
owns  much  stock." 

So  Mr.  Cochran  had  gone  out  of  his  way  to 
befriend  the  captain  of  the  Roanoke,  reflected 
David.  It  showed  that  the  great  man  had  a 
sense  of  fair  play  and  square  dealing  if  his 
eyes  were  once  opened.  If  there  was  only  some 
way  to  enlist  this  powerful  interest  in  Captain 
John's  behalf,  without  making  it  seem  like 
asking  charity.  If  Arthur  should  be  saved 
141 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

from  the  sea,  the  way  might  be  found.  The 
master  of  the  Pilgrim  was  growing  old  before 
his  time,  while  he  ate  out  his  heart  in  vain 
hopes.  He  was  proud  and  independent  to  a 
fault,  and  David  knew  he  would  starve  sooner 
than  crowd  another  man  out  of  his  berth. 
While  in  New  York  David  had  taken  pains  to 
learn  that  none  of  the  sailing  ships  in  Mr. 
Cochran's  sugar-carrying  trade  were  without 
masters,  and  for  the  present  he  could  see  no 
help  in  that  quarter. 

One  week  followed  another,  and  David  found 
no  chance  to  go  to  New  York  again.  One  of 
his  letters  from  Margaret  told  him: 

"Mrs.  Cochran  sent  for  me  to  go  and  see 
her  yesterday.  Grandfather  took  me  up  and 
was  going  to  sit  on  the  front  steps  and  wait, 
but  the  servants  took  him  in  tow  and  he  was 
invited  up-stairs  with  me.  Mr.  Cochran  must 
have  said  some  nice  things  about  poor  little 
me.  She  was  very  sweet  and  lovely,  but  so 
sad  looking.  And  she  wanted  to  know  if  I 
would  show  her  how  to  make  an  apple  pie. 
There  are  at  least  twenty  servants  in  their 
crew,  Davy,  and  imagine  me  making  apple 
142 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

pies  in  that  house.  What  makes  such  very 
rich  people  seem  so  dreadfully  lonesome? 
She  explained  that  Arthur's  boy  friends  were 
all  out  of  town,  and  that  he  didn't  have  many 
anyhow. 

"They  have  sense  enough  to  know  that  you 
are  a  wonderful  Big  Brother,  which  is  why 
I  like  them.  Grandfather  told  her  all  sorts 
of  cheerful  yarns  about  people  who  were  not 
heard  of  at  sea  for  weeks  and  weeks,  and 
then  came  into  port  all  safe  and  smiling.  She 
seemed  to  have  faith  in  that  simple,  quiet 
way  of  his,  when  he  leans  forward  and  looks 
you  straight  in  the  eyes  as  he  talks.  She  asked 
him  had  he  given  up  going  to  sea,  and  he 
told  her  yes.  And  I  spoke  right  up  as  bold 
as  anything: 

"'It  isn't  because  he  wants  to,  but  because 
sailing  ships  are  so  scarce.  He  never  would 
have  anything  to  do  with  steam.' 

"She  did  not  quite  understand,  but  he  shut 
me  up  before  I  could  tell  her  that  he  was  one 
of  the  finest  ship-masters  that  ever  cracked  on 
sail  in  a  gale  of  wind.  Won't  we  see  you  again 
before  we  sail,  Davy?  I  am  sending  a  box  of 
143 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

apple  pies  by  express.  I  made  them  with  my 
own  fair  hands,  and  one  of  them  is  specially  for 
the  bos'n,  with  his  initials  on  the  crust.  Mr. 
Becket  says  I  ought  to  have  put  on,  'FOR  A 
DUTCH  HUMBUG.'" 

Davy  duly  delivered  the  pie  and  Mr.  Becket's 
message,  and  was  thanked  for  the  one  and  cuffed 
over  the  head  for  the  other. 

The  Roanoke  was  almost  ready  for  sea  a  few 
days  later,  when  a  telegram  came  aboard  for 
David.  He  opened  the  envelope  with  stum 
bling  fingers,  fearing  something  might  have  hap 
pened  to  his  "  dearest  folks."  The  message 
was  from  Mr.  Cochran,  however,  and  said  no 
more  than: 

11  There  may  be  good  news  for  us.  Cannot 
tell  yet.  Try  to  come  at  once.11 

David  showed  the  message  to  the  chief 
officer,  who  advised  him  to  take  it  to  Captain 
Thrasher.  That  august  personage  said  at 
once: 

"Jump  right   along  with  you.    Give   Mr. 
Cochran  my  best  regards,  and  tell  him  to  send 
you  back  as  soon  as  he  can." 
144 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

On  the  train  bound  for  New  York  David 
tried  to  fathom  the  meaning  of  the  uncertain 
tidings.  Either  Arthur  had  been  saved  or  he 
had  not,  but  apparently  the  father  was  waiting 
for  more  information.  When  David  jumped 
from  the  car  in  the  Jersey  City  station,  he  was 
surprised  to  see  Mr.  Cochran  waiting  for  him, 
with  every  sign  of  impatient  haste. 

"Come  along,  youngster,"  he  called  at  the 
top  of  his  voice.  "I  have  a  tug  with  steam  up 
right  here  by  the  ferry  dock." 

He  grasped  David's  arm  and  they  charged 
pell-mell  through  the  crowd.  Mr.  Cochran 
had  no  breath  to  spare  until  they  had  scrambled 
from  the  string-piece  of  the  pier  to  the  deck 
of  a  sea-going  tug,  whose  escape  valve  was 
roaring  in  a  cloud  of  steam.  Orders  were 
shouted,  a  bell  clanged,  another  jingled,  and  the 
tug  was  racing  down  the  North  River  toward 
the  Bay. 

"Mrs.  Cochran  was  not  strong  enough  to 
come,"  panted  her  husband  as  he  mopped  his 
face.  "And  we  may  be  disappointed  after  all.  I 
can't  stand  much  more  of  a  strain  myself.  But 
we  shall  know  in  three  or  four  hours,  I  hope." 
us 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"What — why — how  do  you  know?"  stam 
mered  David,  whose  head  felt  dazed. 

"Only  that  a  tramp  steamer  arriving  this 
morning  reported  being  signalled  by  a  sailing 
ship,  the  Sea  Witch,  that  she  had  on  board 
part  of  the  crew  of  a  yacht.  It  was  blowing 
hard  when  the  vessels  sighted  each  other,  and 
the  captain  of  the  tramp  could  not  read  the 
flags  distinctly." 

"But  where  was  the  Sea  Witch  when  sighted, 
and  whither  bound?" 

"Liverpool  to  New  York — a  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  out,  twenty-four  hours  ago.  The 
wind  has  shifted  to  fair  for  her  since  midnight, 
and  she  will  be  in  sight  of  Sandy  Hook  before 
dark." 

"Of  course  Arthur  is  aboard,"  cried  David, 
with  buoyant  faith. 

The  father  said  nothing.  Perhaps  he  was 
thinking  of  the  sufferings  which  had  killed  so 
many  strong  men  adrift  in  open  boats.  And 
this  boy  of  his  was  a  weakling,  used  to  the 
constant  care  and  luxury  which  wealth  had 
lavished  on  him.  David  tried  to  rouse  him 

from  his  reflections  by  saying: 
146 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

"The  Sea  Witch  is  the  finest  and  smartest 
ship  of  her  class  afloat,  sir.  She  is  the  largest 
four-masted  sailing  ship  that  flies  the  American 
flag.  I'd  give  a  lot  to  see  her." 

"I  believe  I  control  some  kind  of  a  fleet  of 
barks  and  ships  in  my  sugar  business,"  replied 
Mr.  Cochran,  "but  I  haven't  paid  much  atten 
tion  to  them.  Don't  believe  I  ever  laid  eyes  on 
one  of  them.  But  I  don't  recall  hearing  of  the 
Sea  Witch." 

"Almost  four  thousand  tons,  and  sailing 
mostly  to  the  Orient  with  case  oil,"  added 
David.  "I  know  a  man  that  was  in  her." 

The  tug  churned  her  way  through  the  Nar 
rows  and  lifted  her  bow  to  the  swell  of  the  Bay. 
Mr.  Cochran  had  become  lost  in  his  own 
thoughts  as  he  stared  from  a  wheel-house  win 
dow,  while  David  swapped  briny  yarns  with 
the  mate. 

"The  Sea  Witch  was  spoken  three  hundred 
miles  out,  a  week  ago,"  said  the  mate.  "Then 
she  was  blown  to  sea,  and  now  she's  piling  in 
again  with  the  wind  where  she  wants  it." 

The  green  sea  opened  ahead,  and  the  tug 
plunged  her  guard  rail  under  as  her  skipper 
147 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

crowded  a  good  thirteen  knots  out  of  her. 
The  Navesink  Highlands  became  vague  and 
misty  over  her  stern,  and  still  her  course  was 
held  toward  the  east-south-east. 

"The  Sea  Witch  ought  to  be  showing  us 
her  royals  before  long,"  said  the  skipper. 

He  had  no  more  than  spoken  when  the  mate 
shouted:  "There  she  is,  right  to  the  minute. 
A  point  off  the  port  bow." 

Swiftly  the  white  patch  crept  above  the 
horizon;  sail  by  sail  the  gleaming  canvas  of 
the  Sea  Witch  lifted  fair  and  graceful,  until 
her  black  hull  was  visible  as  a  mere  dot  beneath 
the  immense  sweep  of  her  snowy  wings.  Every 
stitch  of  cloth  she  could  spread  was  pulling  her 
homeward.  David  had  been  at  sea  for  more 
than  a  year  without  glimpsing  such  a  noble 
picture  as  this.  When  they  had  run  close 
enough  to  make  out  the  stars  and  stripes 
whipping  from  the  mizzen  of  the  Sea  Witch 
like  a  tongue  of  flame,  he  drew  a  long  breath 
and  felt  little  chills  run  up  and  down  his 
back.  Now  he  began  to  understand  what  the 
sea  and  its  ships  meant  to  Captain  John  Brace- 
well,  ship-master  of  the  old  school. 
148 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

Mr.  Cochran  had  no  eyes  for  the  rare  beauty 
of  the  Sea  Witch  under  full  sail.  He  was  lean 
ing  far  out  of  his  window,  imploring  the  captain 
of  the  tug  to  make  more  speed.  When  the  two 
vessels  were  a  half  mile  apart,  a  string  of  signal 
bunting  soared  to  the  tug's  mast-head,  announc 
ing:  "Wish  to  speak  to  you,  most  important." 

After  a  little  interval,  the  Sea  Witch  signalled 
back: 

"Can't  stop.    What  is  your  business?" 

"Oh,  quit  that  foolishness,"  groaned  Mr. 
Cochran,  wringing  his  hands.  "Run  alongside 
and  speak  her  as  soon  as  you  can." 

The  tug  swept  round  in  a  foaming  arc,  and 
came  up  on  the  lee  side  of  the  four-master, 
which  was  surging  home  like  a  race-horse.  A 
long  line  of  heads  bobbed  above  the  bulwark  in 
the  waist  of  the  Sea  Witch,  arid  presently  a  slim 
young  figure  danced  up  the  poop  ladder  and 
climbed  on  top  of  the  cabin. 

"That  looks  like  him,"  cried  Mr.  Cochran, 
"but  he  was  never  as  frisky  as  that  in  all  his 
life." 

The  excited  David  thumped  the  magnate 
between  the  shoulders,  and  yelled: 
149 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"Of  course  it's  Arthur.  I  can  make  him  out 
as  plain  as  daylight." 

The  tug  sheered  closer  and  closer  at  top 
speed,  but  she  was  rapidly  dropping  astern  of 
the  flying  ship.  The  agile  figure  on  the  cabin 
roof  caught  up  a  speaking-trumpet  and  piped 
shrilly: 

"Daddy,  ahoy!     It's  me!    How's  mother?" 

The  father  scrambled  on  deck  and  bawled 
with  arms  outstretched: 

"All  well,  you  little  rascal!  Are  all  hands 
with  you?" 

"There  they  are  in  the  waist.  All  the  men 
in  our  boat.  Count  'em  for  yourself.  All 
present  and  accounted  for,  down  to  the 
cook's  pet  monkey.  Anybody  lost  of  your 
company?  And  has  the  other  boat  been 
picked  up?" 

"We  were  all  saved,  thank  God.  No,  the 
second  boat  has  not  been  heard  from  yet. 
Here's  a  youngster  who  can  tell  you  all  about 
our  end  of  it." 

Arthur  failed  to  recognize  at  long  range  the 
Roanoke  cadet  whom  he  had  last  seen  in  bed 
with  a  bandaged  head.  David  shouted  a  wel- 
150 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

come,  but  it  was  lost  in  the  stentorian  roar  of 
the  captain  of  the  Sea  Witch: 

"I'll  lay  my  main-yard  aback  and  put  your 
lad  aboard,  Mr.  Cochran.  I  wouldn't  do  it  for 
anybody  else  but  his  daddy." 

The  tug  dropped  farther  astern,  and  the 
towering  square  rigger  began  to  slacken  her 
rushing  speed  as  her  mighty  yards  were  swung 
round.  Then  as  she  lay  at  rest,  a  rope  ladder 
was  dropped  overside,  and  young  Arthur  Coch 
ran  swarmed  down  it  as  if  he  had  been  the 
pet  monkey  saved  from  the  yacht.  A  boat 
from  the  tug  was  waiting,  and  Mr.  Cochran, 
rising  in  the  stern-sheets,  fairly  grabbed  the 
boy  in  his  arms  and  hugged  him  like  a 
bear.  Arthur  struggled  to  get  his  breath  and 
sputtered : 

"Tell  the  Restless  men  you're  glad  to  see 
them,  father.  They  were  mighty  good  to  me." 

"I  am  an  unfeeling  brute,  but  I  couldn't 
think  of  anything  else  than  getting  my  hands 
on  you.  Sea  Witch,  ahoy!  A  glad  welcome 
home  to  the  Restless  captain  and  his  men. 
Report  at  my  office  on  landing,  and  you  won't 
be  sorry  that  you  sailed  with  me!  I  feel  sure 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

that  the  rest  of  the  crew  have  been  saved  and 
will  be  reported  soon." 

As  soon  as  they  were  aboard  the  tug,  Mr. 
Cochran  began  to  take  stock  of  his  son  and 
heir.  Instead  of  the  wasted  invalid  he  had 
dreaded  to  find,  this  survivor  was  tanned,  clear- 
eyed,  and  vigorous. 

"What  kind  of  a  miracle  has  happened  to 
you?"  he  asked.  "Your  mother  won't  know 
you." 

"Plain  grub  and  hard  work,  I  guess,"  grinned 
Arthur.  "We  were  adrift  four  days,  and  I  got 
a  razor  edge  on  my  appetite.  Three  weeks 
aboard  the  Sea  Witch  did  the  rest.  The  cap 
tain  said  I'd  been  coddled  to  death  as  soon  as 
he  found  out  who  I  was,  and  you  bet  he  kept 
me  busy.  Why,  I  helped  reef  the  fore-top 
gallant  sail  last  night." 

Mr.  Cochran  glanced  up  at  the  dizzy  yards 
of  the  Sea  Witch  and  shuddered.  Then  Arthur 
found  time  to  stare  hard  at  David,  who  was 
tactfully  keeping  in  the  background. 

"Well,  I'll  be  jiggered!  It's  you,  is  it?" 
shouted  Arthur.  "This  is  better  luck  than  I 
counted  on.  So  you  two  have  made  it  up? 
152 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

Fine!  Father  was  horrid  mean  to  you.  I  sup 
pose  you  picked  him  up  at  sea.  Rescuing  folks 
seems  to  be  one  of  your  steady  habits." 

"You  have  guessed  right,"  laughed  David. 
"There  was  more  than  one  sunny  side  to  the 
loss  of  the  Restless.  It's  an  ill  wind  that  blows 
nobody  good." 

While  the  tug  sped  toward  Sandy  Hook,  Mr. 
Cochran  and  his  boy  sat  in  the  skipper's  little 
room  abaft  the  wheel-house  and  talked  to  their 
heart's  content.  David  was  wise  enough  to 
leave  them  alone,  and  with  peace  in  his  heart 
he  gazed  at  the  Sea  Witch,  which,  scorning  a 
tow-boat,  was  driving  astern  of  them.  The 
signal  station  at  Sandy  Hook  was  told  to  tele 
graph  the  good  news  ahead,  and  long  before 
they  landed  newsboys  were  crying  "Evening 
Extras,"  with  the  return  of  Stanley  P.  Coch- 
ran's  son  emblazoned  in  head-lines  of  blue 
and  red. 

David  said  good-by  at  the  wharf,  but  Arthur 
stoutly  refused  to  let  him  go. 

"I  haven't  had  a  chance  to  see  you  more 
than  a  minute,"  exclaimed  the  jubilant  casta 
way.  "Hang  your  old  ship!  Let  her  wait. 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

Father  will  wire  the  captain  for  you.  Now  is 
the  glad  time  to  work  Mr.  Stanley  P.  Cochran 
for  most  any  old  thing." 

"You  don't  know  Captain  Stephen  Thrash 
er,"  said  his  father.  "I  tried  to  buy  him  and 
his  ship  once.  He  has  asked  me  to  send 
David  back  to  the  Roanoke  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  he  meant  exactly  what  he  said.  I  have 
learned  to  let  seafaring  people  have  their  own 
way.  They  are  a  terribly  obstinate  lot,"  and 
he  winked  comically  at  David. 

No  longer  afraid  of  Mr.  Cochran's  wrath, 
David  told  him : 

"I  must  catch  the  next  train  to  Philadelphia. 
Give  my  love  to  Mrs.  Cochran,  please,  and  the 
Bracewells,  if  you  happen  to  see  them." 

"Why,  bless  me,"  declared  Mr.  Cochran, 
"have  you  come  to  New  York  without  a  chance 
to  see  your  folks  ?  That's  absurd.  It  was  very 
selfish  of  me  to  kidnap  you,  I'm  sure,  but  there 
was  no  one  else  I  wanted  to  take  out  to  meet 
the  Sea  Witch." 

"Never  mind.  I  can  write  them  before  I 
sail,"  and  with  this  David  set  off  for  the  ferry 
at  a  smart  trot.  When  he  reported  aboard 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

the  Roanoke  in  the  evening,  Captain  Thrasher 
was  just  going  ashore. 

"What  news?"  he  halted  to  ask.  "Young 
Cochran  safe  in  port  ?  Well,  well,  I  am  very 
thankful  to  hear  it.  What  ship  found  them? 
The  Sea  Witch  ?  Why  I  know  her  master  well. 
Dried-up  little  man  with  a  white  goatee?" 

This  described  the  man  who  had  shouted 
orders  from  the  quarter-deck  of  the  Sea  Witch, 
and  David  meekly  answered,  "Yes,  sir." 

"Seventy,  if  he  is  a  day,  and  tough  as  a  pine 
knot,"  concluded  Captain  Thrasher.  "He  was 
master  of  a  ship  when  I  went  to  sea  as  a  boy." 

Before  David  turned  in  he  wrote  to  Margaret, 
and  wound  up  with: 

"You  never  saw  such  a  beautiful  ship  in 
your  life  as  the  Sea  Witch.  Be  sure  to  take 
Captain  John  down  to  see  her  when  she  docks. 
If  there  were  only  really  and  truly  fairies,  or 
if  I  had  a  magic  wand,  I  would  wave  it  around 
Mr.  Cochran's  head  and  ask  him  to  buy  the 
Sea  Witch  and  put  Captain  John  in  her,  instead 
of  the  frosted  old  pippin  that  is  master  of  her. 
She  almost  makes  me  wish  I  had  not  gone  into 
steam.  Oh,  if  you  could  have  seen  her  under 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

full  sail — but  what  is  the  use  of  my  raving 
about  the  Sea  Witch?  Good-night,  and  God 
bless  you  all." 

The  Roanoke  was  almost  ready  to  proceed 
straight  to  Southampton  for  a  thorough  over 
hauling  after  the  patch-work  repairs  made  to 
enable  her  to  cross  the  Atlantic  in  safety. 
There  was  no  excitement  about  this  kind  of  a 
departure,  and  on  the  morning  of  sailing  her 
empty  decks  made  David  feel  a  little  homesick. 
He  was  sent  ashore  with  a  bundle  of  the  cap 
tain's  farewell  letters,  and  on  his  way  back 
dodged  a  cab  which  was  rattling  down  to 
the  wharf  in  runaway  fashion.  A  volley  of 
"Whoas"  and  "Hullos"  came  from  inside,  and 
wheeling  about,  David  saw  the  head  of  Arthur 
Cochran  poked  out  of  the  window. 

"Ahoy,  there,"  he  shouted,  pushing  open 
the  door,  and  alighting  fairly  on  top  of  David 
before  the  driver  could  pull  up  his  sweating 
steed.  "Father  came  over  on  business,  and  I 
coaxed  him  into  letting  me  come  along,  on  the 
chance  of  seeing  you." 

"Come  aboard,"  said  David,  joyfully. 
"We're  ready  to  cast  off,  but  there  will  be  a 
156 


YANKEE  TOPSAILS 

few  minutes  to  spare,  I  guess.  You  don't  look 
a  shipwrecked  sailor,  not  a  little  bit." 

"I  have  met  those  pals  of  yours,"  confided 
Arthur  as  they  hurried  up  the  gangway.  "And 
they  are  just  bully,  aren't  they?  They  are  the 
real  thing.  Mother  dotes  on  the  dear  little 
sister,  and  she  is  a  dear,  and  Captain  Bracewell 
is  a  copper-fastened  Ai  old-time  Yankee  sailor, 
that  you  read  about  in  books.  Say,  but  he  is  a 
brick,  a  whole  ton  of  'em.  And,  oh,  you  will  be 
tickled  to  death  to  hear  that  the  other  Restless 
boat  was  found  by  a.  steamer  which  carried  the 
men  to  Liverpool." 

" Good  enough,"  cried  David.  "That  is  the 
bulliest  kind  of  news." 

Elated  as  he  was  to  learn  that  all  the 
yacht's  crew  had  been  accounted  for,  the 
praise  of  Margaret  made  David  wince  a  trifle 
in  spite  of  himself.  Jealousy  had  never  in 
vaded  his  feelings  toward  the  "little  sister." 
He  wanted  Arthur  to  like  his  "dearest  folks," 
but  it  was  not  easy  to  think  of  sharing  their 
affection.  Beating  down  this  ungenerous  emo 
tion  with  a  very  manly  spirit,  David  cordially 
agreed: 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

"They  are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  Arthur,  and 
I  am  mighty  glad  you  like  them.  They 
worried  themselves  almost  sick  about  you. 
What  about  Mr.  Becket  ?  Have  you  met  him  ?  " 

"He  looked  me  up  yesterday,  and  was  so 
full  of  mystery  that  I  couldn't  make  head  or 
tail  of  him.  He  got  almost  to  the  point  of 
telling  me  something,  and  then  he  sheered  off 
on  another  tack,  rubbed  his  red  head,  sighed, 
looked  out  of  the  window,  and  muttered  some 
thing  about  guessing  he'd  have  to  see  you  first." 

"Was  it  anything  about  Captain  Bracewell?" 

"He  never  got  that  far.  He  seemed  to  be  in 
the  last  stages  of  buck-fever  or  acute  rattles. 
But  he  doesn't  look  like  a  timid  man." 

David  was  called  forward,  and  while  Arthur 
kicked  his  heels  on  a  bench  by  the  gangway, 
Captain  Thrasher  happened  along,  on  his 
way  to  the  bridge. 

"My  father,  Mr.  Cochran,  sends  you  his 
warmest  regards,"  said  Arthur,  "and  wishes 
you  a  luckier  voyage  than  the  last." 

"So  you  are  the  young  nine-days'  wonder, 
are  you?  You  look  as  if  sea  life  agreed  with 
you." 

'58 


YANKEE   TOPSAILS 

"That's  what  everybody  says,  Captain,  and 
I  am  trying  to  persuade  mother  to  let  me  go 
for  a  long  voyage.  My,  but  I  should  like  to  go 
out  in  the  Sea  Witch  to  Japan." 

"No  finer  sailing  vessel  afloat,"  said  Captain 
Thrasher.  "How  is  that  old  barnacle  that 
commands  her?  Bad-tempered  as  ever?" 

"He  is  pretty  violent,"  smiled  Arthur.  "But 
he  is  done  with  the  sea.  This  was  his  last  voy 
age.  He  told  me  he  was  going  home  to  Maine 
as  quick  as  the  Lord  would  let  him,  and  raise 
potatoes  and  cabbages,  'gosh  whang  it.'  He 
has  been  at  sea  fifty-seven  years." 

"Who  will  take  her  out?" 

"The  mate  expects  to  get  her,  sir.  But  he  is 
a  pie-faced,  wooden-headed  Norwegian,  with  a 
thirst  for  rum.  I  didn't  take  to  him  at  all." 

"Too  bad  to  see  a  Norwegian  in  command 
of  the  finest  Yankee  ship  afloat,"  was  Captain 
Thrasher's  comment  as  he  went  on  his  way. 

Fifteen  minutes  passed  and  David  had  not 
returned.  It  was  like  hunting  a  needle  in  a 
hay-stack  to  look  for  him,  and  Arthur  fidgeted 
where  he  was  until  the  deck  officer  warned  him 
that  it  was  time  to  go  ashore.  Then  David 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

came  running  aft,  just  as  the  Roanoke  blew  a 
long  blast  to  let  all  hands  know  she  was  ready 
to  cast  off. 

"I  had  to  tally  a  lot  of  stores  that  just  came 
aboard  for  the  paint  room,"  panted  David. 
"  It  is  a  shame  that  I  can't  hear  all  about  what 
happened  to  you  at  sea.  But  I'll  be  back  in  a 
few  weeks." 

Arthur  shouted  his  farewells,  as  he  ran  to  the 
wharf,  while  David  said  to  himself,  with  sor 
rowful  countenance: 

"And  I  never  got  in  a  word  for  Captain 
John." 

He  would  have  been  more  regretful  could  he 
have  overheard  the  news  about  the  command  of 
the  Sea  Witch  as  Arthur  had  told  it  to  Captain 
Thrasher. 


!fc> 


CHAPTER  IX 

CAPTAIN  BRACEWELL'S  SHIP 

DAVID  had  been  gone  a  week,  when  Arthur 
Cochran  announced  to  his  father: 

"There  is  no  sense  in  waiting  till  David,  the 
bold  sailor  boy,  comes  home  from  sea.  I  want  to 
ask  the  Bracewells  and  Mr.  Becket  up  to  dinner. 
You  postponed  it  once,  before  I  turned  up,  and 
anyhow  you  owe  them  a  dinner  to  square  your 
self  for  the  apple  pie  you  got  away  with." 

Since  their  disaster  at  sea  the  domineering 
manner  of  Mr.  Cochran  toward  his  son  had 
changed  to  a  relation  of  good  comradeship,  in 
which  Arthur  no  longer  feared  and  trembled. 
His  timid  smile  had  become  frank  and  boyish, 
and  he  carried  himself  in  a  way  that  made  his 
father  proud  of  him. 

"By  all  means,"  heartily  replied  Mr.  Coch 
ran.  "It  won't  hurt  you  to  know  folks  who 
don't  care  a  rap  for  your  money,  and  who  are 

161 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

not  looking  for  a  chance  to  pull  your  leg.  They 
preach  a  healthy  gospel  by  just  living  along  in 
their  own  way." 

Arthur's  mother  mildly  suggested  that  the 
dinner  await  David's  return,  but  she  was  routed 
by  the  argument: 

"That  will  be  an  excuse  for  another  dinner. 
The  more,  the  merrier." 

Thereupon  she  offered  her  services  as  a 
partner  in  his  plans,  and  between  them  they 
devised  all  manner  of  novel  decorations  and 
surprises.  The  thing  which  pleased  them  most 
was  a  lake  of  real  water  that  extended  the 
length  of  the  dining  table,  and  upon  which 
floated  two  toy  vessels.  One  of  them  was  the 
model  of  a  full-rigged  sailing  ship,  the  other  of 
an  ocean  steamer,  with  a  black  star  between 
her  funnels.  They  were  christened  the  Sea 
Witch  and  the  Roanoke.  For  the  bridge  of  the 
liner  Arthur  found  a  most  dashing  miniature 
captain  in  blue,  who  was  tagged,  in  honor  of 
the  absent  friend,  "Captain  David  Downes." 

The  guests  arrived  fairly  calm,  but  somewhat 
awed  by  their  surroundings.  Captain  John,  in 

his  Sunday  black,  loomed  like  a  benevolent 
162 


CAPTAIN  BRACEWELL'S  SHIP 

Viking.  His  massive,  clean-shaven  face  had 
lost  its  sea  tan,  but  he  was  as  fine  a  specimen 
of  the  American  ship-master  as  could  have  been 
found  in  his  almost  vanished  generation.  Mar 
garet,  dressed  in  white,  with  a  rose  in  her  fair 
hair,  was  winsomely  girlish,  enjoying  every 
moment  of  this  red-letter  night.  Mr.  Becket's 
rolling  gait  put  the  costly  bric-a-brac  in  some 
danger,  and  he  would  insist  on  making  side 
remarks  to  the  servants,  but  Margaret  was  a 
skilful  pilot,  and  steered  him  in  safety  to  the 
haven  of  the  dining-room. 

"I  don't  quite  figure  out  how  it  all  happened," 
said  Captain  Bracewell,  from  his  chair  at  Mrs. 
Cochran's  right  hand,  "but  we  are  all  glad  to  be 
here,  ma'am.  Most  of  us  have  been  saved  by  the 
Lord's  grace  from  the  perils  of  the  deep.  But 
the  boy  who  fetched  us  all  together  is  absent  from 
us,  and  I  move  we  drink  his  health  standing." 

While  the  company  toasted  the  young  able 
seaman  of  the  Roanoke,  Arthur  cried: 

"And  here's  to  all  ships  and  sailors,  their 
sisters,  sweethearts,  and  wives." 

He  glanced  at  Margaret  with  so  mischievous 
a  twinkle  in  his  dancing  eyes  that  she  felt  her 
163 


A  CADET   OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

cheek  grow  hot,  for  no  reason  at  all,  of  course. 
Mr.  Becket  made  a  diversion,  however,  by  pen 
sively  observing: 

"There  was  a  black-eyed  senorita  in  Val 
paraiso.  But  she  hasn't  written  me  in  eleven 
years,  and  I  couldn't  read  it  if  she  did.  But  I 
hereby  drink  to  her  most  hearty." 

Captain  Bracewell's  bold  and  resolute  man 
ner,  which  became  him  so  well,  was  returning 
in  the  enjoyment  of  this  festal  occasion.  The 
weary  year  of  disappointment  and  failure  was 
forgotten  for  the  time.  He  seemed  to  grow 
younger  as  the  dinner  wore  on.  Mr.  Cochran, 
who  knew  men  and  how  to  draw  them  out, 
was  shrewdly  studying  this  fine  figure  of  a 
mariner.  There  was  more  behind  that  square- 
hewn  face  than  simple  honesty  and  loyalty. 
The  man  of  wealth  and  power  had  lost  some  of 
his  former  contempt  for  those  who  could  not 
"make  money."  Perhaps  more  than  he  real 
ized,  he  had  learned  new  values  of  men  from 
David  Downes.  But  why  should  Captain 
Bracewell  have  quit  his  calling,  reflected  Mr. 
Cochran,  while  he  was  still  fit  for  years  of  com 
mand?  "He  is  not  a  day  over  sixty,"  the  host 
164 


CAPTAIN  BRACEWELL'S  SHIP 

was  saying  to  himself,  "and  he  looks  as  sturdy 
as  an  oak  tree."  Mr.  Cochran  did  not  know 
that  there  had  been  a  kind  of  blind  conspiracy 
to  hide  the  truth  from  him.  David  had  let  slip 
his  chance  to  confide  in  Arthur;  Captain  John 
would  not  have  dreamed  of  presuming  on  Mr. 
Cochran's  friendship;  while  Mr.  Becket  had 
lost  his  daring  at  a  critical  moment. 

Their  well-meaning  secrecy,  their  fond  hopes 
and  wishes,  were  revealed  without  warning,  and 
without  any  prompting  of  their  own.  They  were 
talking  about  the  two  little  ships  which  swam  so 
proudly  on  the  lake  between  them.  Mock 
congratulations  were  showered  upon  the  absurd 
figure  of  a  doll,  which  stood  so  stiffly  on  the  tiny 
liner's  bridge.  Margaret  called  out  playfully: 

"Why  don't  you  toot  your  whistle  and  salute 
us,  Captain  Downes?  Too  haughty  and  stuck- 
up,  I  suppose,  like  all  you  steamer  captains." 

"S-s-s-sh.  He  is  on  duty,"  chided  Arthur. 
"No  talking  on  the  bridge." 

"He  can  have  his  old  steamer,"  flung  back 
Margaret.  "I'll  take  the  Sea  Witch  yonder, 
every  time.  Oh,  isn't  she  just  beautiful,  even 
as  a  toy?" 

165 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

The  blood  of  a  long  line  of  sailor  ancestors 
thrilled  in  Margaret's  veins,  as  she  clasped  her 
hands  and  leaned  forward  to  waft  her  breath 
against  the  white  sails  of  the  clipper  ship.  The 
Sea  Witch  dipped  to  this  fair  gale,  gathered 
headway,  and  furrowed  the  pond  with  a  wake 
of  tiny  ripples.  Her  bowsprit  pointed  straight 
at  Captain  Bracewell,  and  fanned  by  the  breath 
of  the  guests  as  she  passed  them,  the  Sea  Witch 
glided  without  swerving  from  her  course  to 
the  mossy  bank  in  front  of  the  captain's  plate. 

"But  she  hasn't  any  skipper,"  cried  Arthur. 
"That  doll  on  her  quarter-deck  must  be  the 
mutton-headed  Norwegian  mate.  Chuck  him 
overboard,  mother.  He's  no  good." 

With  a  gay  laugh,  Mrs.  Cochran  tossed  the 
luckless  manikin  into  the  water,  where  he  sank 
to  the  bottom  without  a  struggle,  and  reposed 
against  a  rock  with  arms  calmly  folded  across 
his  chest.  The  heartless  onlookers  applauded 
this  tragedy,  all  save  Captain  John,  who  was 
looking  down  at  the  ship.  Perhaps  he  had  a 
trace  of  the  superstition  which  can  be  found  in  the 
hardest-headed  seafarer.  The  Sea  Witch,  with 
out  a  captain,  had  laid  her  course  for  him,  and 
166 


CAPTAIN  BRACEWELL'S  SHIP 

was  waiting  on  the  shore.  This  make-believe 
voyage  might  be  a  good  omen. 

Arthur  had  an  inspiration,  while  the  atten 
tion  of  the  others  was  drawn  to  Captain  John 
and  the  fairy  ship.  Springing  to  his  feet,  he 
flourished  his  napkin  in  the  air,  and  shouted: 

"What's  the  matter  with  Captain  John  Brace- 
well  as  master  of  the  Sea  Witch  ?  Wouldn't  as 
fine  a  ship  as  this  persuade  you  to  go  to  sea 
again?" 

Margaret  was  thrown  into  confusion,  and 
Mr.  Becket  was  taken  all  aback,  but  Captain 
John  smiled  and  threw  back  his  shoulders,  as 
he  gently  answered: 

"I  should  like  nothing  better,  but  her  own 
ers  don't  see  it  that  way." 

"Who  owns  the  Sea  Witch?"  spoke  up  Mr. 
Cochran. 

"Burgess,  Jones  &  Company.  She  is  the 
last  of  their  four-masted  ships  that  were  built 
for  the  Far  Eastern  trade,"  said  Captain  John. 

"Why,  it  is  plain  as  the  nose  on  your  face," 
declared  the  headlong  Arthur,  who  was  taking 
full  command  of  the  situation.  "Don't  let 

her  be  turned  into  a  coal  barge,  father.    That 
167 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

is  what  they  talk  of  doing  with  her  after  one 
more  voyage.  She  can  be  made  to  pay  her 
way  with  your  brains  back  of  her.  Buy  her 
to-morrow.  I'll  get  you  all  the  facts  and 
figures.  And  one  long  voyage  in  her  is  what  I 
need  to  make  me  as  husky  as  David  Downes." 

Matters  were  moving  too  fast  for  the  guests. 
Mr.  Becket's  face  was  fairly  purple  with  sup 
pressed  emotions,  and  he  could  only  pound 
the  table  in  a  dazed  kind  of  way  and  mutter: 

"Exactly  what  I  tried  to  tell  him.  Exactly 
it.  But  I  got  hung  on  a  dead  centre." 

Captain  Bracewell  raised  his  hand  to  com 
mand  silence.  He  was  anxious  to  pull  Mr. 
Cochran  out  of  an  awkward  situation,  and  did 
his  best  to  make  light  of  the  discussion  by 
saying: 

"It  is  just  a  boy's  fancy,  sir.  Don't  mind 
him.  He  means  well.  We  will  just  call  it  a 
bit  of  fun,  and  forget  it.  Besides,  I'm  asking 
no  favors  from  anybody." 

Captain  John  had  risen  to  his  feet,  and  was 
bending  toward  his  host.  Mr.  Cochran  looked 
up  with  frank  admiration  at  the  imposing  figure 

which  faced  him,  and  returned : 
168 


CAPTAIN  BRACEWELL'S   SHIP 

"Arthur  goes  off  at  half-cock  a  good  deal. 
But  there  is  a  grain  or  two  of  sense  in  him. 
Suppose  we  talk  this  matter  over  to-morrow, 
Captain.  I  am  a  business  man,  and  you  are 
pretty  solidly  ballasted  yourself.  I  don't  want 
to  fling  a  lot  of  money  into  the  sea,  nor  do  you 
wish  any  position  that  comes  to  you  as  a  whim." 

But  Arthur  was  not  ready  to  dismiss  his 
great  idea,  until  he  noticed  that  his  mother's 
face  was  full  of  suffering  and  her  dear  eyes 
were  moist  with  tears.  He  went  around  to 
her  and  kissed  her  cheek,  as  he  asked  what 
the  trouble  might  be. 

"I  hope  you  can  make  Captain  Bracewell 
happy,"  she  whispered.  "But  I  can't  let  you 
go  to  sea  again  so  soon.  You  must  not  leave 
me  now,  when  I  feel  as  if  you  had  been  given 
back  to  me  from  the  grave.  You  won't  go, 
will  you,  if  you  can  feel  strong  and  well  at  home 
with  us?" 

The  boy  responded  with  impulsive  tenderness: 

"Not  if  you  feel  that  way  about  it,  mother. 
And  I  am  going  to  stay  strong  and  fit,  anyway. 
But  you  will  help  me  to  get  the  Sea  Witch  for 

the  captain,  won't  you?" 
169 


The  father  was  thinking  as  he  watched  them 
that  it  was  worth  a  great  deal  to  have  his  only 
son  learn  lessons  of  unselfishness;  to  see  him 
more  absorbed  in  the  welfare  of  others  than  in 
his  own  interests.  Mr.  Becket  said  to  Margaret, 
in  what  was  meant  for  a  whisper: 

"The  lad  couldn't  know  our  David  very  long 
without  getting  some  of  that  help-the-other- 
fellow  spirit.  Our  boy  has  always  been  study 
ing  what  he  could  do  for  you  and  Captain  John. 
He  even  has  me  on  his  mind  these  days." 

Mr.  Becket's  whisper  was  heard  the  length 
of  the  table,  and  Arthur's  father  commented 
with  a  smile: 

"I  guess  you  are  right,  Mr.  Becket,  but  why 
on  earth  didn't  David  let  me  know  that  the 
captain  wanted  a  ship?" 

"Because  you  blackguarded  and  scolded  him 
out  of  his  boots  when  he  stuck  to  these  friends 
of  his,  last  year,"  bravely  returned  the  aroused 
Mr.  Becket.  "And  our  boy  don't  crawl  on 
his  knees  to  no  millionaires,  potentates,  or  boo- 
jums.  That's  one  reason." 

With  tactful  desire  to  restore  peace,  Mrs. 

Cochran  signalled  to  a  servant,  and  a  phono- 
170 


CAPTAIN   BRACEWELL'S   SHIP 

graph  hidden  in  the  palms  began  to  play 
" Nancy  Lee."  The  Sea  Witch  was  not  men 
tioned  again  until  the  guests  were  ready  to  take 
their  leave,  when  Margaret  slipped  up  to  Mrs. 
Cochran  and  confided  with  fluttering  voice : 

"Please  don't  think  we  ever  hinted  the  least 
thing  to  Mr.  Arthur  about  our  looking  for  a 
vessel.  It  is  lovely  to  know  that  you  think  so 
much  of  grandfather.  And  Mr.  Becket  and  I 
will  try  to  make  him  understand  that  it  was  all 
a  joke  to-night.  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  his 
taking  it  the  least  bit  in  earnest.  We  just 
can't  have  him  down  in  the  dumps  again." 

"  Don't  worry,  Margaret,"  Arthur's  mother 
responded,  caressing  the  girl's  shining  hair. 
"Things  will  work  out  for  the  best  somehow, 
for  such  a  dear,  brave  child  and  such  a  splendid 
grandfather." 

Captain  Bracewell  passed  a  sleepless  night, 
his  mind  restless  with  new-born  hopes.  It 
could  not  be  true,  it  was  not  even  sane  to 
expect  that  he  might  walk  the  quarter-deck  of 
the  Sea  Witch,  a  bigger,  finer  ship  than  he  had 
ever  been  master  of  in  his  prime.  And  to  talk 

of  buying  her  as  if  she  were  the  toy  which  had 

171 


A  CADET   OF  THE   BLACK   STAR  LINE 

floated  on  the  dinner  table!  It  was  all  stark 
nonsense,  yet  his  kindled  imagination  could  not 
help  painting  bright  pictures.  Margaret  heard 
him  muttering  to  himself  in  the  night  watches, 
and  stole  to  his  bedside.  The  captain  put  his 
arms  around  the  slim  figure  in  white,  and  drew 
her  to  him. 

"I  haven't  slept  a  wink,  either,"  she  whis 
pered.  "You  will  take  me  with  you  in  the  Sea 
Witch,  won't  you  ?  But  we  will  be  so  far  away 
from  David." 

Captain  John  chuckled : 

"Why,  you  are  the  girlie  who  was  telling  me 
all  the  way  home  that  I  must  take  it  as.  a  bit  of 
fun.  What  has  come  over  you?" 

"I  just  can't  help  believing  it  is  going  to 
come  true,"  she  answered.  "I  guess  we  are 
two  silly  children.  But  will  you  try  to  coax 
David  to  ship  with  you  ?" 

"So  that  is  what  is  keeping  you  awake,"  he 
responded,  very  tenderly.  "Nothing  would  be 
too  good  for  the  lad  if  he  were  in  my  vessel, 
you  know  that.  But  our  chickens  aren't 
hatched,  and  you'd  better  turn  in,  and  thank 

God  for  all  the  blessings  we  have." 
173 


CAPTAIN  BRACEWELL'S   SHIP 

Next  morning  Captain  Bracewell  trudged  off 
to  his  gang  of  longshoremen  on  a  North  River 
pier.  As  he  turned  along  the  crowded  water 
front,  a  four-masted  sailing  ship  was  being 
towed  into  a  berth  among  the  low-roofed  ware 
houses.  He  stared  with  surprise  at  the  rare 
sight,  and  thrilled  to  note  the  immense  height  of 
her  masts  and  the  majestic  spread  of  her  yards. 
Beside  the  uncouth  ocean  steamers,  she  ap 
peared  queenly  beyond  words.  Without  going 
nearer,  Captain  Bracewell  knew  that  this  must 
be  the  Sea  Witch.  He  fought  with  his  long 
ing  to  go  aboard  and  inspect  this  vessel  of 
his  dreams.  But  deciding  that  he  ought  to 
make  himself  no  more  unhappy  than  possible, 
he  moved  on  his  way,  now  and  then  turning 
for  another  sight  of  the  "grandest  Yankee  sky- 
sail-yarder  afloat." 

A  few  hours  later  Arthur  Cochran  rode  down 
town  with  his  father,  explaining,  by  the  way: 

"The  weeks  at  sea  did  me  lots  of  good,  H! 
admit  that.  But  another  reason  why  I  feel  so 
much  better  is  that  I  have  quit  worrying  about 
myself.  If  you  will  give  me  enough  to  think 
about,  I  won't  have  time  to  bother  with  my 


A  CADET  OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

weak  chest  and  spindle  legs.  But  it  is  a  heap 
more  important  that  I  get  Captain  John  ready 
for  sea  before  David  conies  home.  Wouldn't  it 
be  a  glorious  surprise  for  him?" 

"Give  me  time  to  think  it  over,  Arthur. 
Maybe  Burgess,  Jones  &  Company  will  be 
glad  to  do  me  a  favor  without  making  it  neces 
sary  to  buy  a  ship.  Why,  I  own  a  fleet  of  them, 
come  to  think  of  it." 

"But  they  are  not  in  the  same  class  with  the 
Sea  Witch,  father,  and  I  want  to  own  her 
myself.  It  is  a  good  way  to  break  me  in  to 
business  before  I  am  ready  to  go  to  college. 
Outbound  freights  have  jumped  in  the  last 
week  and  now  is  the  time  to  buy  or  charter." 

"I  begin  to  think  you  are  a  chip  of  the  old 
block,  my  son,"  said  Mr.  Cochran,  not  at  all 
displeased.  "Maybe  I  can  see  you  through  on 
this  shipping  deal.  Come  to  my  office  at  noon, 
after  I  have  had  time  to  send  a  man  out  to 
investigate." 

Arthur  was  not  letting  the  grass  grow  under 
his  feet.  He  posted  down  to  the  wharf  to  find 
Captain  Bracewell,  and  implored  that  busy 
stevedore : 


CAPTAIN  BRACEWELL'S  SHIP 

"I  want  all  the  figures  to  show  the  cost  of 
running  a  four-masted  ship,  wages,  stores,  re 
pairs,  and  so  on.  Dig  it  up  in  a  hurry,  please, 
for  I  may  be  a  ship-owner  by  afternoon.  Let 
your  roustabouts  have  a  ten  minutes'  rest." 

There  was  no  such  thing  as  heading  Arthur 
off.  He  volleyed  questions  like  a  rapid-fire  gun. 
No  sooner  had  his  flying  pencil  scrawled  the 
last  row  of  figures  than  he  fled  from  the  wharf. 
Noon  found  him  waiting  in  the  ante-room  of  his 
father's  private  offices,  chewing  his  pencil  stub 
and  scanning  many  rumpled  pages  of  calcula 
tions.  Presently  a  clerk  beckoned  him,  and 
the  door  of  the  inner  office  was  closed  behind 
the  budding  shipping  merchant.  An  hour  later 
he  bobbed  out  with  an  excited  air  and  an 
nounced  to  the  confidential  secretary: 

"Mr.  Cochran  says  to  have  room  number 
eighteen  fitted  up  as  an  office,  if  you  please.  I 
shall  use  it  hereafter.  I  want  the  door  lettered, 

'ARTHUR  L.  COCHRAN,  SHIP-OWNER.'" 

A  messenger  found  Captain  Bracewell  eat 
ing  his  dinner  at  home.  Margaret  was  trem 
bling  as  she  noticed  that  the  note  was  written 


on  the  office  stationery  of  Stanley  P.  Cochran. 
Her  grandfather  was  outwardly  calm,  as  he 
read  aloud: 

CAPTAIN  JOHN  BRACEWELL: 

Dear  Sir:  This  is  to  offer  you  the  command 
of  the  ship  Sea  Witch,  which  is  now  lying  at  Pier 
38,  North  River,  in  this  port.  Ij:  you  will  accept 
the  position,  please  call  at  my  office  at  your 
earliest  convenience  to  arrange  terms,  etc. 

Sincerely  yours, 
ARTHUR  L.  COCHRAN,  Agent  and  Owner. 

"Listen  to  that,  his  daddy  all  over  again," 
roared  the  ship-master.  "I  shall  have  to  toe 
the  mark  now.  Well,  it's  come  true.  It's  come 
true,  girlie.  And  our  lad  David  did  it  all." 

He  knelt  by  the  table,  as  if  this  were  the  first 
thing  to  be  done,  and  Margaret  was  kneeling 
beside  him  as  he  gave  thanks  to  the  God  in 
whom  he  had  put  his  trust,  afloat  and  ashore. 

"We  must  send  a  cablegram  to  David," 
quavered  Margaret,  sobbing  for  sheer  joy. 
"And  tell  him  he  must  sail  with  us." 

Three  thousand  miles  away  a  lad  in  sailor 
blue  was  mending  awnings  on  a  liner's  deck. 
He  did  not  look  happy  as  he  plied  the  sail- 
176 


CAPTAIN  BRACEWELL'S  SHIP 

needle  with  vicious  jabs,  while  he  thought, 
half  aloud: 

"What  is  the  use  of  having  friends  if  you 
can't  be  of  any  use  to  them  ?  What  good  have 
I  been  to  Captain  John  and  Margaret  ?  Always 
wanting  to  help,  never  doing  a  thing!  I  might 
have  got  him  a  ship  if  I  hadn't  hung  fire  so 
long.  Now  it's  too  late.  I  wish  I  had  never  set 
eyes  on  those  Cochrans.  I  just  amused  them, 
because  I  was  a  kind  of  curiosity,  I  suppose." 

It  was  a  very  different  David  Downes  who 
whooped  like  a  red  Indian  soon  after  he  went 
off  watch.  After  dancing  along  the  deck  with 
a  cabled  message  in  his  fist,  he  sat  down  on 
the  edge  of  his  bunk  to  think  things  over. 
Slowly  the  fact  of  Captain  John's  great  good 
fortune  slipped  into  the  background,  and  bigger 
and  bigger  loomed  the  certainty  which  he  could 
not  bear  to  face. 

"A  whole  year  without  seeing  Margaret," 
he  said  to  himself,  "for  she  is  sure  to  go  in  the 
Sea  Witch.  I  never  realized  what  it  would 
mean  to  have  them  go  to  sea  again.  They  must 
take  me,  too ;  I  can't  bear  to  be  left  behind.  A 

whole  year  without  Margaret!" 
177 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

Then  it  came  over  him  that  he  belonged 
where  he  had  begun,  in  steam,  in  the  Atlantic 
service.  He  was  of  a  different  age  and  breed 
of  seaman  from  Captain  John.  Their  ways 
must  part.  But  was  not  any  sacrifice  worth 
while  that  would  give  him  a  chance  to  sail  with 
Margaret?  David  was  suddenly  brought  face 
to  face  with  a  new  problem  which  had  come 
into  his  life  without  his  being  aware  of  it.  He 
must  fight  it  out  for  himself. 


178 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  CALL  OF  DUTY 

CAPTAIN  JOHN  BRACEWELL'S  deep  voice  was 
shouting  orders  to  the  tug  which  was  making 
fast  to  haul  the  deep-laden  Sea  Witch  out  from 
her  wharf.  She  was  ready  to  begin  her  long 
voyage  around  Cape  Horn,  and  the  trade 
winds  of  the  Pacific  were  calling  her.  In 
their  first  hours  aboard,  her  crew  had  found 
that  they  were  in  a  "smart  ship,"  with  a  master 
who  knew  his  trade.  No  longer  a  stranded 
derelict,  but  a  leader  of  men,  gravely  rejoicing 
in  the  strength  and  beauty  of  the  Sea  Witch, 
Captain  Bracewell  looked  every  inch  a  proper 
seaman  to  command  this  queen  of  the  old-time 
Yankee  merchant  marine. 

In  the  spacious  after-cabin,  bright  with  the 

summer  sun  which  flooded  through  the  open 

skylights,    Margaret   was    saying    almost    the 

last  of  her  good-bys.    Clusters  and  bouquets 

179 


A  CADET  OF  THE   BLACK  STAR  LINE 

of  flowers,  sent  by  Mr.  Cochran,  senior,  made 
every  shelf  and  corner  gay.  Mrs.  Cochran  and 
he  had  made  their  farewell  call  and  were  gone 
ashore,  but  Arthur  still  lingered  in  the  cabin. 
Beside  him  stood  able  seaman  David  Downes. 
The  young  owner  of  the  departing  ship  was 
saying  to  the  fair-haired  girl: 

"I  can't  stay  more  than  a  minute  longer. 
My  boat  is  alongside,  and  I  must  get  back  to 
my  office.  I'd  like  awfully  well  to  go  down  the 
Bay  with  you,  but — " 

He  hesitated,  glanced  at  David  and  went  on 
with  an  affectionate  smile,  which  embraced 
both  his  friends: 

"You  may  not  see  your  big  brother  for  a  year, 
Miss  Margaret.  He  deserves  to  have  you  all 
to  himself  to-day." 

"Better  change  your  mind  and  come  back  in 
the  tug,"  said  David.  "This  is  your  ship,  you 
know.  And  Margaret  will  love  to  have  you." 

She  smiled,  with  lips  which  slightly  trembled, 
and  there  was  unspoken  sadness  in  her  brave 
eyes,  as  she  told  them: 

"Indeed  I  want  you  both  until  we  have  to 
say  good-by.  And  David  has  not  quite  de- 
180 


THE  CALL   OF  DUTY 

cided  to  desert  us.  I  am  hoping  to  persuade 
him  yet  that  he  belongs  in  the  Sea  Witch.  We 
just  can't  give  him  up  without  trying,  to  the 
very  last  minute.  But  it  is  going  to  make  no 
difference,  even  if  the  seas  do  roll  between  us 
three.  We  can't  forget  you  for  a  moment, 
either  of  you.  You  two  have  brought  us 
this  great  gift  and  blessing — my  two  big 
brothers." 

Arthur's  gaze  was  wistful,  but  he  answered 
brightly : 

"And  your  owner  is  prouder  of  his  master 
and  of  you  than  he  is  of  his  fine  ship." 

"Not  to  overlook  the  mate,"  exclaimed  a 
hearty  voice  behind  them,  and  Mr.  Becket's 
head  blazed  grandly  in  a  patch  of  sunshine,  at 
the  foot  of  the  companion-way.  "Beg  your 
pardon,  Mr.  Cochran,  but  we  are  in  the  stream 
and  your  boatman  wants  to  cast  off.  Any 
orders,  sir?" 

"I  am  coming,  Mr.  Becket.  Well,  it  is 
good-by,  and  God  bless  you,  Miss  Margaret, 
and  fair  winds  to  you,  and  dear  skies,"  said 
Arthur,  as  he  clasped  her  hand  for  a  moment. 

Then  he  followed  Mr.  Becket  on  deck.    David 
181 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

ran  after  them,  and  as  he  helped  his  friend 
overside,  Arthur  asked: 

"Is  it  go  or  stay,  with  you?  The  longer  you 
hang  in  the  wind  without  making  up  your 
mind,  the  worse  it  will  be." 

"It's  the  hardest  thing  I  ever  had  to  decide," 
replied  David.  "I  sort  of  went  ahead  blind, 
and  didn't  know  how  much  this  was  going  to 
mean  to  me." 

"Father  and  mother  and  I  have  begun  to 
find  out  that  you  haven't  been  thinking  of  your 
self  at  all,  from  start  to  finish,"  cried  Arthur. 
"Maybe  that  is  why  all  your  friends  like  you." 

This  unexpected  compliment  took  David 
aback,  and  all  he  could  think  of  to  say  in  part 
ing  was: 

"You'll  hear  from  me  by  to-morrow.  It's  all 
a  game  of  figuring  out  what  is  right  to  do." 

David  watched  the  boat  move  shoreward, 
until  it  dodged  behind  a  string  of  barges,  and 
then  he  returned  to  Margaret  in  the  cabin. 
She  made  a  gallant  effort  to  face  the  issue 
which  they  had  argued  over  and  over  again. 

"It  all  happened  just  right  that  Mr.  Becket 

was  willing  to  come  as  mate,"  she  began,  "but 
182 


THE  CALL   OF  DUTY 

oh,  the  whole  beautiful  plan  seems  so  empty 
without  you,  Davy.  Why  can't  you  sail  with 
us?  Grandfather  says  he  will  make  you  third 
mate  at  the  end  of  this  voyage.  And  you  will 
be  just  drudging  along  in  the  Roanoke  for  years 
and  years,  before  you  can  get  that  far." 

"It  is  different  with  Mr.  Becket,"  replied 
David,  with  a  sigh.  "He  is  almost  fifty  years 
old,  and  he  needs  a  position.  Besides,  he 
stands  a  fine  chance  to  be  master  of  the  Sea 
Witch  when  Captain  John  retires.  But  I  am 
just  beginning,  and  I  belong  in  steam." 

Margaret  was  unconvinced,  as  she  looked  up 
at  him  with  affectionate  pride. 

"I  suppose  you  know  what  is  best,  Davy,  and 
I  want  you  to  succeed  more  than  anything  else 
in  the  world.    Duty  is  a  queer  thing  anyhow. 
The  Cochrans  think  I  ought  to  stay  ashore  and 
go  to  school.    But  I  know  better.    There  never 
was  a  wiser  teacher  than  grandfather,  and  he 
needs  me,  and  school  must  wait.    And  you  and^ 
I  could  study  together,  Davy.    Think  of  the! 
months  and  months  at  sea." 

"But  it  all  comes  down  to  this,  Margaret. 
Answer  me  yes  or  no.    Which  course  do  you 
183 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

want  me  to  take?  The  one  I  ought  to  steer, 
or  the  one  I  want  to  follow  ?  There's  the  whole 
thing  in  a  nutshell." 

She  thought  it  cruel  of  him  to  pin  her  down 
to  this  kind  of  an  answer,  but  she  met  his 
questions  as  squarely  as  Captain  John  would 
have  done. 

"The  course  you  ought  to  steer,  if  you  have 
to  take  one  or  the  other,"  was  her  verdict. 

"Then  I  go  back  to  the  Roanoke"  declared 
David.  "I've  been  veering  this  way  and  that 
in  my  mind,  but  the  things  I've  learned  about 
duty  in  the  last  year  kind  of  help  me  to  make 
a  good  finish  of  it.  I  must  stick  it  out  as  I 
started.  We  sail  in  the  morning,  Margaret, 
and  we  may  pass  you  going  out.  I  can  read 
any  signals  you  set,  and  I'll  know  they  are 
meant  for  me." 

"'Don't  forget  your  dearest  folks,'  will  be 
what  I'm  saying  to  you,  David,"  she  answered, 
very  softly. 

David  moved  toward  the  companion-way. 
He  saw  how  hard  it  was  for  Margaret  to  keep 
back  her  tears,  now  that  the  parting  was  so 
near. 

184 


THE  CALL  OF  DUTY 

"Don't  forget  me,  little  sister,"  he  said,  and 
his  voice  faltered.  "I'll  be  waiting  for  you, 
forever  and  ever,  amen." 

He  meant  more  than  was  in  his  words,  for 
the  "little  sister"  was  dearer  to  him  in  this 
moment  than  she  had  ever  been  before.  But 
he  could  not  tell  her  what  was  in  his  heart. 
They  went  on  deck  as  Captain  Bracewell  called 
out  cheerily: 

"I  smell  a  shift  of  wind,  We  shall  be  under 
sail  to-morrow.  Why,  the  breeze  has  painted 
roses  in  your  cheeks  already,  Margaret. 
There's  nothing  like  getting  to  sea  again.  How 
about  it,  Davy  Downes?  Shall  I  put  your 
name  on  the  ship's  papers?" 

"No,  sir.  I  am  an  able  seaman  aboard  the 
Roanoke.  And  I'm  sorry  that  I  put  you  to  the 
trouble  of  holding  a  berth  open  for  me." 

Captain  Bracewell  looked  at  the  lad  with 
approval,  as  he  rejoined: 

"It  isn't  always  easy  to  get  your  true  bear 
ings,  my  boy,  and  maybe  I  did  wrong  in  trying 
to  persuade  you  to  sail  with  an  old  fogy  like 
me.  We  want  you  bad,  but  we're  not  going 
to  stand  in  your  way,  hey,  Margaret?" 
185 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

The  "little  sister"  had  nothing  more  to  say. 
Her  bright  world  was  clouded,  and  she  could 
not  look  beyond  this  hour.  It  was  Mr.  Becket 
who  cheered  them  with  his  never-failing  good 
humor.  Coming  aft  for  orders,  he  stood  sur 
veying  the  silent  group  as  if  wondering  what 
misfortune  had  happened  in  his  absence. 

"Cheer  up,  my  children,"  was  his  exhorta 
tion.  "You've  got  what  you  wanted,  and  what 
more  do  you  want?  Why,  I  didn't  look  as 
dismal  as  all  this  when  my  last  skipper  chased 
me  ashore,  with  his  one  whisker  whistlin'  in 
the  wind." 

"David  is  going  to  leave  us,"  said  Margaret, 
solemnly. 

"And  what  would  we  do  with  the  useless 
little  paint  scrubber  aboard  a  real  ship?"  ex 
claimed  Mr.  Becket.  "He's  never  been  aloft 
in  his  life." 

"Get  forward  with  you,  Mr.  Becket,"  thun 
dered  the  captain,  and  the  mate  ducked  down 
the  ladder,  as  if  he  had  been  shot  at.  The 
time  was  all  too  short  before  the  Sea  Witch 
reached  an  anchorage  in  the  lower  bay.  David 
was  ready  to  leap  aboard  as  the  tug  came  along- 
186 


THE  CALL  OF  DUTY 

side.  He  was  through  with  saying  good-bys, 
and  he  lingered  only  long  enough  to  shake 
hands  all  round. 

Margaret  and  he  had  tried  to  console  them 
selves  with  the  thought  that  this  was  not 
really  their  last  sight  of  each  other.  The  liner 
would  be  going  out  in  the  morning,  and  then  it 
would  be  farewell  in  earnest.  But  David  was 
a  lonesome  and  melancholy  sailor  as  he  went 
aboard  the  Roanoke  that  night.  The  bos'n 
found  him  on  duty  at  the  gangway,  and  took 
pity  on  his  low  spirits. 

"It  vas  hard  to  lose  friends,  but  it  vas  worse 
to  have  no  friends  to  lose,  and  all  hands  on 
deck,  from  the  old  man  to  his  sawed-off  leetle 
cabin-boy  knows  that  you  haf  been  true  to 
your  friends  and  stuck  by  your  colors,  boy. 
It  vill  do  you  no  harm.  I  vas  getting  old,  and 
there  is  gray  in  my  hair,  and  I  vill  never  be  a 
ship's  officer.  But  if  you  does  your  duty  and 
sticks  by  your  friends  you  will  wear  the  blue 
coat  mit  the  brass  stripes  on  the  sleeve,  and 
you  will  be  glad  you  stayed  by  steam." 

"But  I  always  wanted  to  be  the  kind  of  a  sea 
man  my  father  was,"  confided  David,  grateful 
187 


for  the  cheer  of  this  grizzled  shipmate.  "And 
I've  just  left  that  kind  of  a  ship-master  and  a 
vessel  that  made  me  sort  of  choke  all  up  to 
look  at  her." 

Next  morning  came  fair  and  sparkling,  with 
a  fresh  wind  out  of  the  north-west  that  set  the 
harbor  to  dancing.  The  liner's  decks  were 
crowded  with  passengers  in  holiday  mood. 
From  her  huge  funnels  poured  clouds  of  black 
smoke,  to  tell  the  water  front  that  she  was  eager 
to  be  free  and  hurrying  over  seas.  Promptly  on 
the  stroke  of  ten,  as  if  she  were  moved  by  clock 
work,  the  decks  trembled  to  the  thresh  of  her 
giant  screws,  hawsers  came  writhing  in  to  the 
rattle  of  donkey-engines  fore  and  aft,  and  the 
black  hull  of  the  liner  slid  slowly  past  her  pier. 

Up  in  the  bow,  able  seaman  David  Downes 
waved  his  cap  to  Arthur  Cochran  who  had 
come  down  to  see  him  off.  Their  friendship 
had  been  knit  closer  by  the  sailing  of  the  Sea 
Witch,  and  David  glowed  at  the  thought  of  the 
message  which  Mr.  Cochran,  senior,  had  sent 
to  the  steamer  by  his  boy: 

"Tell  the  able  seaman  that  I  wasn't  as  crazy 

as  I  seemed  when  I  bought  the  Sea  Witch  over- 

188 


THE  CALL  OF  DUTY 

night.  If  he  had  wanted  her  for  himself  it 
would  have  been  another  matter.  But  I  did  it 
to  please  him  as  much  as  to  please  the  old 
skipper  and  my  boy.  Tell  him  he  has  helped 
me  to  know  what  friendship  means,  in  a  world 
where  I  thought  that  kind  of  thing  had  gone 
out  of  style." 

As  the  Roanoke  neared  Sandy  Hook,  David 
saw  far  ahead  a  row  of  tall  spars  astern  of  a 
tug.  He  forgot  his  work  and  rushed  to  the 
rail.  It  was  the  Sea  Witch,  and  the  liner  would 
pass  close  to  her.  Soon  little  patches  of  white 
began  to  break  out  among  the  yards  of  the 
ship  ahead.  The  bos'n  stood  beside  David 
and  growled  in  his  ear: 

"You  must  not  loaf  on  deck,  boy,  but  maybe 
a  minute  won't  hurt  nothings.  It  vas  a  good 
sight,  that.  I  know  it  all.  Now  I  hear  the 
captain  say  to  the  mate,  'Set  your  jibs.'  And 
next  it  is,  'Set  your  staysails.'  And  then  it  is, 
'Loose  your  lower  topsails.'  Then  the  mate 
vill  sing  out  to  the  men,  'Haul  away  the  lee 
sail,'  or  'Overhaul  the  main-top-gallant  bunt- 
lines.'  But  I  am  an  old  fool  and  you  are  a 

young  loafer.    Get  along  mit  you." 
189 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

As  if  by  magic,  the  white  canvas  was 
spreading  higher  and  higher  above  the  low 
hull  of  the  Sea  Witch,  until  her  royals 
seemed  like  bits  of  the  clouds  that  drifted 
in  the  blue  sky.  As  David  answered  a  sum 
mons  from  the  bridge,  he  overheard  Captain 
Thrasher  say: 

"Very  smartly  done.  The  old  man  must 
have  shipped  a  good  crew.  Wonder  where  he 
got  'em?  That's  the  way  Yankee  ships  used 
to  make  sail  when  I  was  a  boy." 

David  felt  a  thrill  of  pride  as  if  he  had  a 
personal  share  in  this  welcome  praise.  The 
liner  was  overhauling  the  Sea  Witch  hand  over 
hand.  David  was  straining  his  eyes  to  make 
out  the  flutter  of  a  skirt  on  the  quarter-deck. 
The  ship  was  still  too  far  away,  however,  and 
his  attention  was  caught  for  a  moment  by  the 
surprised  voice  of  the  bos'n : 

"Holy  schmokes,  your  granddaddy  is  gettin' 
up  his  sky-sails.  He  vill  give  us  a  race,  eh?" 

Sure  enough,  the  sailors  of  the  Sea  Witch 
could  be  seen  working  in  mid-air,  and  pres 
ently  the  tiny  squares  of  canvas  gleamed 

above   her  royals.     "It  is  to  show  this  old 
190 


THE  CALL  OF  DUTY 

tea-kettle  what  a  Yankee  ship  can  do,"  quoth 
the  bos'n. 

No  more  stately  and  beautiful  sea  picture 
could  be  imagined  than  the  Sea  Witch,  when 
Captain  Bracewell  had  put  her  under  this 
staggering  press  of  sail.  The  wind  was  hum 
ming  through  the  stays  of  the  Roanoke's  apolo 
gies  for  masts,  and  it  smote  the  Sea  Witch  with 
a  driving  power,  which  heeled  her  until  the 
copper  of  her  hull  gleamed  like  a  belt  of  gold 
against  the  white-capped  Atlantic. 

David  could  see  Margaret  leaning  against 
the  weather  rail  of  the  poop,  her  hair  blowing 
in  the  jolly  wind,  as  she  shaded  her  eyes  and 
gazed  at  the  liner's  decks.  Nor  could  this 
daughter  of  the  deep  sea  have  asked  for  a  more 
fitting  accompaniment  for  her  farewell  to  David 
than  the  roaring  chorus  which  floated  from  amid 
ships  of  the  Sea  Witch.  Captain  Bracewell  had 
bullied  and  bribed  the  shipping  masters  of  New 
York  to  find  him  Yankee  seamen.  It  was  a 
hard  task  that  he  set  them,  but  by  hook  and 
crook  he  had  gathered  a  dozen  deep-water 
"shell-backs"  of  the  old  breed  among  his 

thirty  foremast  hands,  and  they  knew  the  old- 
191 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

time  sailors'  chanties.  Now,  as  they  swayed 
and  hauled  on  sheets  and  braces,  their  lusty 
chorus  came  faint  and  clear  to  the  liner: 

"  Come  all  ye  young  fellows  that  follow  the  sea, 
With  a  yeo,  ho,  blow  the  man  down, 
And  pray  pay  attention  and  listen  to  me, 
Oh,  give  me  some  time  to  blow  the  man 
down." 

Soon  the  chorus  changed  as  the  topsail  yards 
were  swayed: 

"We're  outward  bound  this  very  day, 
Good-by,  fare  you  well, 
Good-by,  fare  you  well. 
We're  outward  bound  this  very  day, 
Hurrah,  my  boys,  we're  outward  bound." 

The  passengers  of  the  liner  were  cheering. 
Here  were  sights  and  sounds  which  they  had 
read  about  in  romances  of  the  sea.  But  David 
was  no  longer  thinking  of  the  ship  yonder.  He 
was  blowing  kisses  to  the  "little  girl"  who  had 
crossed  the  deck  and  was  standing  with  one 
arm  about  the  captain  of  the  Sea  Witch.  Over 
their  heads  was  set  a  row  of  signal  flags  to 
speak  their  parting  message: 

"All's  well.    Love  and  greetings." 
192 


THE  CALL  OF  DUTY 

Captain  Thrasher  turned  his  whistle  valve, 
and  the  Roanoke  bellowed  a  courteous  "  Good- 
day  to  you."  Stronger  and  more  musical  than 
before  came  the  sailors'  chorus: 

"Hurrah,  my  boys,  we're  outward  bound." 

Captain  Thrasher  chanced  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  lad  with  the  radiant  face,  who  was  lean 
ing  over  the  rail  of  the  deck  below  him.  With 
a  kindly  impulse,  he  sent  a  boy  to  call  David 
to  the  bridge. 

"You  can  see  them  a  little  better  here,"  said 
the  captain.  "I  take  it  that  you're  pretty 
sorry  to  leave  those  shipmates  of  yours.  Did 
you  want  to  go  with  them?" 

The  young  able  seaman  stood  very  straight, 
and  his  square  jaw  was  firm-set,  as  he  replied: 

"Yes,  sir.    But  I  decided  to  stay  with  you." 

The  captain  of  the  liner  understood  the  boy's 
struggle.  He  made  no  comment,  but  said  to 
one  of  his  officers: 

"Tell  the  quartermaster  to  sheer  a  little 
closer  to  that  ship.  I  may  want  to  speak  her." 

David  looked  his  gratitude,  and  was  on  edge 
with  excitement,  as  he  gazed  down  at  the 
193 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

white  deck  of  the  Sea  Witch,  and  wondered  if 
his  voice  could  carry  that  far.  Perhaps  he 
might  hear  Margaret  call  to  him.  She  had 
seen  him  go  to  the  bridge.  Her  face  was  up 
turned,  and  she  had  picked  up  a  speaking- 
trumpet. 

Just  then  the  fourth  officer  of  the  Roanoke 
brushed  past  David.  He  was  bare-headed,  his 
coat  was  torn,  and  there  was  blood  on  his  face. 
He  addressed  the  captain,  as  if  short  of  breath: 

"If  you  please,  sir,  two  of  those  insane 
steerage  passengers  we  are  deporting  have 
broken  out,  and  are  running  amuck  below. 
The  rest  of  the  people  are  scared  clean  off 
their  heads,  and  I  want  more  help  to  handle 
'em." 

The  discipline  which  had  become  an  instinct 
with  Captain  Thrasher  caused  him  to  grasp 
at  whatever  assistance  was  nearest  to  save 
every  second  of  time  he  could.  He  saw  David 
at  his  elbow,  and  snapped  at  him: 

"Down  you  go!  Jump!  I'll  send  more  help 
in  a  minute  or  two." 

David  cast  one  glance  at  the  deck  of  the  Sea 
Witch.  Margaret  had  never  looked  so  dear  to 
194 


David  gazed  down  at  the  white  deck  of  the  Sea  Witch. 


THE  CALL  OF  DUTY 

him  as  now,  when  she  was  almost  within  speak 
ing  distance.  The  pleading  disappointment  in 
David's  face  was  not  unobserved  by  Captain 
Thrasher,  but  his  grim  features  were  unmoved 
as  he  repeated,  more  sharply: 

"Don't  stand  like  a  dummy!  Below  with 
you!" 

A  sweet,  shrill  hail  came  from  the  quarter 
deck  of  the  Sea  Witch,  "Oh,  David,  ahoy!" 

David  heard  it,  but  he  did  not  turn  to  look 
over  the  side.  The  doctrine  of  duty  had  never 
been  so  hard  to  swallow,  but  with  his  jaw  set 
hard  and  his  fists  shut  tight  he  ran  after  the 
fourth  officer.  A  bedlam  of  noises  came  from 
the  steerage  quarters,  groans  and  shrieks  and 
prayers.  Re-enforced  by  two  more  seamen,  the 
officer  and  David  charged  into  the  uproar. 
Three  stewards  and  a  quartermaster  had  pinned 
the  insane  foreigners  in  a  corner,  and  were  try 
ing  to  put  strait-jackets  on  them.  It  was  a 
difficult  task,  even  with  more  help,  and  the 
panic  of  the  other  Hungarians,  Russians,  and 
Poles  had  grown  to  the  size  of  a  riot.  David 
pitched  in  with  the  momentum  of  a  centre- 
rush,  and  after  several  sharp  tussles  looked 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

around  him  to  find  that  his  doughty  comrades 
had  done  their  duty  well.  His  impulse  was  to 
rush  on  deck  for  a  sight  of  the  Sea  Witch,  but 
his  duty  was  to  await  orders. 

"Stand  guard  over  these  poor  lunatics  till 
you  are  relieved,"  grunted  the  fourth  officer. 

David's  face  turned  very  red,  he  winked  hard 
and  tried  to  hold  back  the  words  that  rushed  to 
his  lips: 

"But  I  must  go  on  deck,  sir.  I — I — "  he 
broke  off  and  steadied  himself  with  a  great 
effort.  Before  the  amazed  officer  could  reply 
to  this  mutinous  outburst  David  had  come  to 
himself.  Discipline  and  duty  took  command 
again,  and  he  added  hi  a  tone  of  appeal : 

"Please  forget  what  I  just  said,  sir.  I 
didn't  mean  to  talk  back.  Of  course  I'll  stay." 

The  officer  cast  a  sour  look  at  the  lad,  as 
if  hi  half  a  mind  to  punish  him.  Then  with  a 
gruff  "Keep  your  tongue  in  your  head  next 
tune,"  he  went  away. 

David  looked  around  at  the  speck  of  blue 
ocean  which  glinted  through  an  open  port 
hole.  Margaret's  ship  was  out  there,  but  he 

could  not  see  her.    Every  moment  the  liner 
196 


THE  CALL  OF  DUTY 

and  the  Sea  Witch  were  drawing  farther  and 
farther  apart.  And  Margaret — was  she  look 
ing  for  him,  trying  to  send  across  the  water 
her  message:  "Don't  forget  your  dearest 
folks"? 

The  disconsolate  David,  sulking  in  the  steer 
age,  was  not  wise  enough  to  know  that  in  this 
trying  hour  he  was  doing  that  which  would 
have  made  his  "dearest  folks"  happy  in  this  big 
boy  of  theirs. 

When  at  length  he  climbed  on  deck,  the 
stately  Sea  Witch  was  hull-down  against  the 
blue  of  the  south-western  sky.  Lower  and 
lower  dropped  the  pyramid  of  sail,  until  a  fleck 
of  white  hung  for  an  instant  on  the  horizon 
line.  David  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  looked  again. 
The  Sea  Witch  had  vanished. 

He  turned  away  and  looked  up  at  the  bridge 
of  the  Roanoke.  Captain  Thrasher  was  pacing 
his  airy  pathway,  quiet,  ready,  masterful,  while 
the  strength  of  fifteen  thousand  horses  drove 
the  Black  Star  liner  toward  her  goal.  David 
Dowries  was  sure  in  his  heart  that  he  had 
chosen  the  right  way,  although  it  was  the 

hardest  way.    As  the  sun  went  down,  he  gazed 
197 


A  CADET  OF  THE  BLACK  STAR  LINE 

across   the   heaving   sea   where   he   had   last 
glimpsed  the  Sea  Witch,  and  said  to  himself: 
"What  I  ought  to  do,  not  what  I  want  to  do: 
that  is  the  course  Captain  John  and  Margaret 
told  me  to  steer.    And  here  is  where  I  belong." 

THE  END 


198 


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